No.  Case, 


PRINCETON,  N.  J. 


No,  Book,^^ _. 


I 


SERMONS, 


DOCTllINAL    AND    TEACTICAL. 


Rev.  WILLIAM  ARCHER  BUTLER,  M.A. 

LATE  PaOFESSOR  OF  MORAL  PHILOSOPHY  IN  THE  UMIVERSITY  OF  DUBLIN. 


FIRST    SERIES. 
EDITED, 

l^itll  It  Jtitnwit  nf  \\)t  autlint's  Xift, 

BY 

The  Very  Rev.  THOMAS  WOODWARD,  M.A. 

PEAN  OF  DOWN. 

FIRST   AMERICAN 

FROM   THE   THIRD   CAMBRIDGE   EDITION. 


PHILADELPHIA: 
PARRY    AND    MCMILLAN. 

1856. 


Entered  aecording  to  tlie  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  "by 
PARRY   AND    McMILLAN 

in  the  Office  of  the  Clerk  of  the  District  Conrt  of  the  United  States  in  and 
for  the  Eastern  District  of  Pennsylvania. 


PHILADELPUIA : 
T.  K.   AND  P.  O.  COLLINS,  PRINTERS. 


NOTE  FROM  THE  PUBLISHERS, 


In  presenting  this  work  to  the  American  pubh'c,  the  publishers 
desire  to  intimate  that  it  is  printed  verbatim  from  the  edition 
which  has  been  issued  from  the  Cambridge  press  in  England, 
and  edited  with  great  care  from  the  manuscripts  of  the  author, 
with  the  exception  of  two  sermons,  which  have  been  omitted  in 
consequence  of  their  special  character.  It  has  long  been  the 
practice  in  Dublin  to  select  some  of  the  most  eloquent  clergymen 
of  the  Irish  Establishment  to  preach  the  annual  sermons  on  be- 
half of  the  different  charities  of  that  city.  Professor  Butler  was 
often  called  to  discharge  that  duty.  Several  of  the  sermons  here 
given  will  show  how  it  was  performed  by  him.  Those  omitted 
refer  to  the  subject  of  education  in  Ireland  as  conducted  by  the 
Government,  and  as  they  are  to  a  certain  extent  national  or  sec- 
tional, it  has  been  thought  unadvisable  to  enlarge  the  volume  by 
their  reproduction  in  this  country. 

It  is  unnecessary  here  to  expatiate  on  the  character  of  these 
sermons.  For  eloquence,  beauty  of  illustration,  richness  of 
imagery,  intense  fervor,  deep  spiritualit}^,  profound  piety,  and 
lucid  exhibition  of  the  great  truths  of  Revelation,  they  will  be 
found  to  take  rank  with  the  highest  productions  of  modern  theo- 
logical literature.  The  North  British  Review  (February  1856), 
in  noticing  these  sermons,  justly  says  :  "From  the  list  now  given, 
we  must  select  for  more  special  notice  the  name  of  one  destined, 
if  we  mistake  not,  to  take  the  highest  place  among  writers  of 
our  English  tongue — whose  sermons  we  would  recommend  to 


iv  Note  from  the  Publishers.  ^ 

our  readers,  not  only  for  their  force  and  subtilty  of  thought, 
brilliance  of  fancy,  and  exuberant  eloquence  of  words,  but  for 
that  spirit  of  love,  that  profound  and  glowing  devotion  by  which 
they  are  animated,  and  with  which  no  one  can  come  into  sympa- 
thizing contact  without  feeling  himself  elevated  and  refined. 
We  know  Professor  Butler  but  in  part.  Too  early  for  us  and 
for  his  earthly  fame  and  usefulness  (he  died  in  1848,  in  his  34th 
year),  he  was  cut  oif  in  early  manhood — a  manhood  rich  in 
promise  of  the  ripest  fruits  of  genius.  Few  men  ever  brought 
to  the  service  of  the  Christian  ministry  such  a  conjunction  of 
needful  qualities,  and  few  sermons  in  our  language  exhibit  the 
same  rare  combination  of  excellencies  :  imagery  almost  as  rich 
as  Taylor's ;  oratory  as  vigorous  often  as  South's ;  judgment  as 
sound  as  Barrow's ;  a  style  as  attractive,  but  more  copious,  ori- 
ginal and  forcible  than  Atterbury's ;  piety  as  elevated  as  Howe's; 
and  a  fervor  as  intense  at  times  as  Baxter's."* 

'  It  is  to  be  lioped  that  the  demand  for  the  volume  now  given  to  the 
public  will  warrant  the  speedy  appearance  of  the  second  series  of  Sermons, 
and  encourage  the  publishers  in  their  desire  to  issue  the  magnificent 
"Lectures  on  Ancient  Philosophy." 


CONTENTS. 


SERMON   I. 

PRACTICAL  USES  OF  THE  UNCERTAINTY  OF  CHRIST'S  COMING. 

(Preached  ia  Advent,  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

PAOE 

Waiting  for  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. — 1  Cor.  i.  7        .      25 
SERMON   II. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  HOLY  INCARNATION. 

(Preached  on  Christmas-Day.) 

And  the  angel  answered  and  said  unto  her,  The  Holy  Ghost  shall 
come  upon  thee,  and  the  power  of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow 
thee :  therefore  also  that  Holy  Thing  which  shall  be  horn  of 
thee  shall  he  called  the  Son  of  God. — Luke  i.  35     .         .         .       39 

SERMON    III. 

THE  DAILY  SELF-DENIAL  OF  CHRIST. 

(A  Lenten  Sermon.) 

If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up 

his  cross,  and  follow  me. — Matt.  xvi.  24         ....       50 

SERMON    lY. 

CRUCIFYING  THE  SON  OF  COD  AFRESH. 

(Prcaclied  on  Good  Friday.) 
Tliey  crucify  to  themselves  the  Son  of  God  afresh. — IlEn.  vi.  6       .       G5 

1* 


vi  Contents. 


SERMON    y. 

THE  POWER  OF  THE  RESURRECTION. 

(Preaclied  on  Easter  Day.) 

PAGE 

In  Clirist  shall  all  be  made  alive. — 1  Cor.  xv.  22  .         .         .         .78 


SERMON    YI. 


THE  TRINITY  DISCLOSED  IN  THE  STRUCTURE  OF  ST.  JOHN'S  WRITINGS. 

(Preached  on  Trinity  Sunday,  before  tlie  University  of  Dublin.) 

These  are  written,  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ, 

the  Son  of  God. — John  xx.  31 94 

SERMON   YII. 

MEETNESS  FOR  THE  INHERITANCE  OF  THE  SAINTS  IN  LIGHT. 

(Epistle,  24tb  Sunday  after  Trinity.) 

Giving  thanks  unto  the  Father,  which  hath  made  us  meet  to  be 

partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. — Col.  i.  12     108 

SERMON    VIII. 

OCCASIONAL  MYSTERIOUSNESS  OF  CHRIST'S  TEACHING. — CHRIST  OUR 

"LIFE." 

Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  If  a  man  keep  my  saying,  he  shall 

never  see  death — Joux  viii.  51 123 

SERMON    IX. 

SELF-DELUSION  AS  TO  OUR  REAL  STATE  BEFORE  GOD. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves. — 1  Joun  i.  8  .     141 

SERMON    X. 

THE  ETERNAL  LIFE  OF  CHRIST  IN  HEAVEN. 

(A  festal  Sermon,  preached  in  the  Chapel  Royal,  Dublin  Castle,  on  Advent  Sunday,  1S42.) 
Behold,  I  am  alive  for  evermore. — Rev.  i.  8 IGl 


Conienls.  vii 

SERMON    XI. 

THE  CANAANITE  MOTHER  A  TYPE  OF  THE  GENTILE  CllUllCir. 


PAGE 


Then  Jesus  answered,  and  said  nnto  her,  0  woman,  great  is  tliy 

faith:  be  it  unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt. — Matt.  xv.  28  .         .     17i 


SERMON    XII. 

THE  FAITH  OF  MAN  AND  THE  FAITHFULNESS  OF  GOD. 
Faithful  is  He  that  calleth  you.— 1  Thess.  v.  24     .         .         .         .     196 

SERMON    XIII. 

THE  WEDDING-GARMENT. 

(Preached  on  the  Second  Sunday  after  Trinitj-.) 

And  when  the  king  came  in  to  see  the  guests,  he  saw  there  a  man 

which  had  not  on  a  wedding-garment : 
And  he  saith  unto  him.  Friend,  how  camest  thou  in  hither  not 

having  a  wedding-garment?     And  he  was  speechless. 
Then  said  the  king  to  the  servants,  Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and 

take  him  away,  and  cast  him  into  outer  darkness  ;  there  shall 

he  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 
For  many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen. — Matt.  xxii.  11 — 14.      .     210 


SERMON    XI  Y. 

CHRIST  SOUGHT  AND  FOUND  IN  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT  SCRIPTURES. 

\ 

Search  the  Scriptures  ;  for  in  them  ye  think  ye  have  eternal  life : 

and  they  are  they  which  testify  of  me. — John  v.  39         .         .     229 


SERMON    XY. 

HUMAN  AFFECTIONS  RAISED,  NOT  DESTROYED,  BY  THE  GOSPEL. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

Charge  them  that  are  rich  in  this  world,  that  they  be  not  high- 
minded,  nor  trust  in  uncertain  riches,  but  in  the  living  God, 
who  giveth  us  richly  all  things  to  enjoy. — 1  Tim.  vi.  17  .         .     249 


viii  Contents. 


SERMON    XYI. 


THE  REST  OP  THE  PEOPLE  OF  GOD. 


PAG  I 


For  Dcavid  said,  The  Lord  God  of  Israel  hath  given  rest  unto  His 

people. — 1  Chkon.  xxiii.  25 266 

SERMON   XYII. 

CHRIST  THE  TREASURY  OF  WISDOM  AND  KNOAVLEDGE. 

(Preached  in  tlie  Parish  Church  of  Leeds.) 

In  "whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge. — ■ 

Col.  ii.  3 278 

SERMON   XYIII. 

THE  DIVINITY  OF  OUR  PRIEST,  PROPHET,  AND  KING. 

(Preached  on  Trinity  Sunday,  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

God  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself. — 2  Cok.  v.  19    292 
SERMON   XIX. 

THE  EXPEDIENCY  OF  CHRIST'S  INVISIBILITY. 

(Preaclied  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away;  for  if  I  go  not  away  the 

Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you. — John  xvi.  7       .         .         .     310 

SERMON   XX. 

THE  INVISIBLE  GOVERNMENT  OF  CHRIST  THROUGH  HIS  SPIRIT. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away ;  for  if  I  go  not  away  the 

Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you. — John  xvi.  7      .         .         .     326 

SERMON   XXI. 

CHRIST'S  DEPARTURE  THE  CONDITION  OF  THE  SPIRIT'S  ADVENT. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away ;  for  if  I  go  not  away  tho 

Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you. — John  xvi.  7      .         .         .     345 


Contents.  jx 


SERMON   XXir. 

THE  FAITH  THAT  COMETH  BY  HEARING. 

(Preached  for  the  National  Institution  for  the  Education  of  the  Deaf  and  Dumb 
Children  of  the  Poor  in  Ireland.) 

PAGE 

How  shall  they  believe  in  Ilirn  of  whom  they  have  not  licard  ? — 

Rom.  X.  14 365 


SERMON   XXIII. 

THE  CHPJSTIAN'S  WALK  IN  LIGHT  AND  LOVE. 

(Preached  for  the  Molyneux  Asylum  for  Blind  Females.) 
If  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  He  is  in  the  light,  we  have  fellowship 

one  with  another. — 1  John  i.  7 386 

SERMON   XXIY. 

PRIMITIVE  CHURCH  PRINCIPLES  NOT  INCONSISTENT  WITH 
UNIVERSAL  CHRISTIAN  SYMPATHY. 

(Preached  at  the  Visitation  of  the  United  Dioceses  of  Derry  and  Eaphoe,  September  22, 
1842,  and  published  at  the  request  of  the  Bishop  and  Clergy.) 

Who  also  hath  made  us  able  ministers  of  the  New  Testament ;  not 

of  the  letter,  but  of  the  spirit. — 2  Cok.  iii.  3  .         .         .         .     407 


[The  facts  here  presented  are  condensed  from  the  Memoir  of  Professor  Butler,  hy  the 
Kev.  Thomas  Woodward,  M.  A.,  the  learned  and  pious  Dean  of  Down.] 

William  Archer  Butler  was  born  at  Annerville,  near  Clonmel,  of  an 
ancient  and  highly  respectable  family.  His  father  was  a  member  of  the 
Established  Church  ;  his  mother,  for  whose  memory  he  entertained  the 
liveliest  affection,  was  a  zealous  Roman  Catholic.  By  her  solicitude,  he 
was  baptized  and  educated  in  the  Romish  faith.  Owing  to  the  imperfect 
system  of  registration  which  prevailed  in  the  Romish  Church,  there  is 
no  record  extant  of  his  birth  or  baptism,  but  those  who  are  best  ac- 
quainted with  the  fact  affirm  that  he  was  born  in  the  year  1814,  and, 
according  to  this  computation,  at  the  time  of  his  decease  he  had  only 
reached  his  thirty-fourth  year.  In  early  childhood  his  residence  was 
removed  to  Garnavilla,  a  lovely  spot  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Suir, 
about  two  miles  from  the  town  of  Cahir.  The  enchanting  scenery  of  the 
neighborhood  made  an  ineffaceable  impression  upon  his  susceptible  tem- 
perament, and  developed  almost  in  infancy  his  poetic  talents.  He  almost 
"lisped  in  rhyme,"  and  some  of  his  boyish  compositions  would  do  honor 
to  the  maturest  efforts  of  the  British  muse. 

At  nine  years  of  age  he  was  removed  for  education  to  the  endowed 
school  of  Clonmel,  under  the  care  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Bell,  who  was 
famed  for  his  success  in  training  a  great  number  of  eminent  scholars, 
and  who  always  secured  the  filial  affection  of  his  pupils  while  under  his 
care,  and  their  love  and  veneration  in  mature  life.  Butler  soon  became 
endeared  to  liis  instructor,  and  a  peculiar  favorite  in  the  school.  He 
was  never  a  proficient  in  the  noisy  games  of  his  coevals,  but  his  playful 
wit  and  amiable  manners  made  him  universally  popular.  He  was  not 
a  hard  student  in  the  ordinary  courses,  but  he  was  a  constant  and  a 
discursive  reader.  He  was  early  familiar  with  the  philosophical  writings 
of  Lord  Bacon  (of  which  he  was  an  enthusiastic  admirer),  and  of  the 
most  distinguished  of  the  Scottish  metaphysicians.  He  perused  the 
classics  as  a  poet,  rather  than  a  philologist.     While  still  a  schoolboy,  he 


xii  —       Memoir. 

had  penetrated  deep  into  the  profundities  of  metaphysics,  his  most  loved 
liursuit,  and  was  accomplished  in  the  whole  circle  of  the  belles-lettres. 

It  was  during  his  pupilage  at  Clonmel,  and  about  two  years  before  his 
entrance  into  college,  that  the  important  change  took  place  in  his  reli- 
gious views  by  which  he  passed  from  the  straitest  sect  of  Roman  Catho- 
licism into  an  earnest  and  decided  member  of , the  Church  of  England. 
From  infancy  he  had  been  deeply  impressed  with  a  sense  of  religion. 
His  moral  feelings  were  extraordinarily  sensitive.  For  long  hours  in  the 
night-season  he  would  lie  prostrate  on  the  ground,  filled  with  remorse 
for  offences  which  would  have  produced  no  anxiety  in  the  minds  of  other 
well  conducted  youths.  He  had  been  accustomed  to  attend  to  confession, 
and  on  one  occasion  when  he  hoped  to  find  peace  to  his  wounded  spirit, 
the  unsympathizing  confessor  received  the  secrets  of  his  soul  as  if  they 
were  but  morbid  and  distempered  imaginations,  and  threw  all  his 
poignant  emotions  back  on  himself.  A  shock  was  given  to  the  moral 
nature  of  the  ardent  and  earnest  youth.  He  that  day  began  to  doubt. 
He  examined  the  controversy  for  himself  with  intense  anxiety,  and  his 
powerful  mind  was,  by  Divine  grace,  soon  enabled  to  discover  and  rest 
on  the  truth. 

On  entering  Trinity  College,  his  literary  powers  soon  became  well  known. 
He  displayed  little  love  for  mathematical  studies,  but  his  productions  in 
prose  and  verse  were  so  pre-eminently  distinguished,  that  they  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  heads  of  the  college,  and  stamped  him  as  a  man  of 
rare  and  varied  genius.  During  his  under-graduate  course,  he  became 
a  copious  contributor  to  the  jjeriodical  literature  of  the  day.  His  refined 
taste  and  eloquence  of  diction  soon  made  him  one  of  the  most  attractive 
of  reviewers.  In  the  Dublin  University  Magazine  alone,  there  appeared 
during  his  college  course  enough  of  poetry  and  of  essays  on  historical, 
critical  and  speculative  subjects,  to  fill  several  volumes.  It  would  be 
hard  to  point  to  compositions  which  exhibit  greater  variety  of  power  in 
a  single  mind,  than  the  Analysis  of  the  Philosophy  of  Berkeley,  the  arti- 
cles on  Sismondi,  on  Whewell's  History  of  the  Inductive  Sciences,  on 
Oxford  and  Berlin  Theology,  and  the  playful  efl'usions  entitled  Evenings 
with  our  Younger  Poets. 

It  would  be  out  of  place,  in  a  brief  Memoir  like  this,  to  give  such 
selections  from  these  essays  as  would  serve  to  display  the  critical  acu- 
men of  Professor  Butler ;  neither  can  we  afiford  to  give  at  adequate 
length,  such  specimens  of  his  poetical  powers,  as  would  fairly  indicate 
the  depth  of  his  emotional  feelings,  and  the  capacity  of  his  descriptive 
powers.  The  following  lines  were  written  by  him,  shortly  after  his  arri- 
val in  the  University.  They  were  afterwards  printed  in  Blackwood^ s 
Magazine,  for  June,  1835.  They  are  a  fair,  though  far  from  the  best,  spe- 
cimen of  their  author's  manner. 


Memoir.  xiii 


TUE    EVEN-SONG    OF    THE     STREAMS. 

Lo  !  couch'd  within  an  odorous  vale,  where  May 
Had  smiled  the  tears  of  April  into  flowers, 
I  was  alone  in  thought  one  sunny  even : 
Mine  eye  was  wandering  in  the  cloudlets  gray, 
Mass'd  into  wreaths  above  the  golden  bowers. 
Where  slept  the  sun  in  the  far  western  heaven. 

I  was  alone,  and  watch'd  the  glittering  threads, 
So  deftly  woven  upon  the  purple  woof 
By  severing  clouds,  as  parting  into  lines 
Of  slender  light,  their  broken  brilliance  spreads 
Thin  floating  fragments  on  the  blue-arch'd  roof, 
And  each,  a  waving  banner,  streams  and  shines. 

A  mountain  lay  below  the  sun,  its  blue 

Veil'd  in  a  robe  of  luminous  mist,  and  seeming 
To  melt  into  the  radiant  skies  above  ; 
A  broken  turret  near,  and  the  rich  hue 

Of  faded  sunlight  through  its  window  gleaming, 
Fainting  to  tremulous  slumber  on  a  grove. 

But  Evening  grew  more  pale.     Her  zoneless  hair 

Wound  in  dim  dusky  tresses  round  the  skies, 

And  dews  like  heavenly  love,  with  unseen  fall. 

Came  showering.     Insect  forms  swarm  on  the  air, 

To  dazzle  with  their  tangling  play  mine  eyes, 

That  drooped  and  closed, — and  mystery  bosomed  all ! 

Unsleeping  thus — yet  dreaminghj  awake — 
Fancies  came  wooing  me,  and  gently  rose 
To  the  soft  sistering  music  of  a  stream 
That  pilgrimed  by ;  and,  as  I  list,  they  take 
A  form,  a  being — such  as  deep  repose 
Begets — a  reverie,  almost  a  dream. 

I  heard,  I  read  the  language  of  the  waters — 
That  low  monotonous  murmur  of  sweet  sound, 
Unheard  at  noon,  but  creeping  out  at  even ! 
That  language  known  but  to  the  delicate  daughters 
Of  Tethys,  the  bright  Naiads.     All  around 

The  thrilling  tones  gush  forth  to  silent  heaven. 

"  We  come,"  they  sweetly  sang,  "  we  come  from  roving, 
The  long  still  summer  day,  'mid  banks  of  flowers. 

Through  meads  of  waving  emerald,  groves,  and  woods. 
Ours  were  delights  :  the  lilies,  mild  and  loving, 
Bent  o'er  us  their  o'erarching  bells — those  bowers 
For  fays  hung  floating  on  our  bubbling  floods. 

"We  come — and  whence  ?     At  early  morn  we  sprung, 
Like  free-born  mountaineers,  from  rugged  hills. 

Where  bursts  our  rock-ribbed  fountain.     We  have  sped 
Through  many  a  quiet  vale,  and  there  have  sung 
The  murmui-iiig  descant  of  the  playful  lills, 

To  thank  the  winds  for  the  sweet  scent  they  shed ! 

2 


xiv  Memoir. 

"  Our  sapphire  floods  were  tinctured  by  the  skies 
With  their  first  burst  of  blushes,  as  we  broke 
At  morn  upon  a  meadow.     Not  a  voice 
Rose  from  the  solemn  earth  as  ruby  dyes 
tSwam  like  a  glory  round  us,  and  awoke 

The  trance  of  heaven,  and  bade  the  world  rejoice. 

'*  Enwreath'd  in  mists,  the  perfumed  breath  of  morn, 
Our  infancy  of  waters  freshly  bright 

Cleft  the  hush'd  fields,  warbling  a  matin  wild  ; 
While  beaming  from  the  kindled  heavens,  and  borne 
On  clouds  instinct  with  many-colored  light, 

The  spirit  of  nature  heard  the  strain,  and  smiled  I 

"  Heaven's  flushing  East,  its  western  wilds  as  pale 
As  is  the  wan  cheek  of  deserted  love, 

Its  changeful  clouds,  its  changeless  deeps  of  blue, 
Lay  glass'd  within  us  when  that  misty  veil, 
Evanid,  disenshrouding  field  and  grove, 
Left  us,  a  mirror  of  each  heavenly  hue, 

"  An  echo  of  Heaven's  loveliest  tints  !     But  lo  ! 
The  spell  that  bound  us  broke ;  in  foaming  leap 
Our  sheeted  waters  rush'd  ;  our  silvery  vest 
Of  light  o'erhung  the  cliffs,  our  gorgeous  bow 
Arch'd  them  at  mid-fall, — till  below  the  steej* 
The  maniac  waves  sunk  murmuring  into  rest. 

"  Now  mourn'd  oiir  lone  stream  down  a  dusky  vale. 
Like  passion  wearied  into  dull  despair, 
The  sole  sad  music  of  that  sunless  spot;. 
And  prison'd  from  the  sunbeam  and  the  gale 
By  nodding  crags  above,  all  wildly  bare. 

We  slowly  crept  where  life  and  light  were  not. 

"  To  greet  us  from  that  salvage  home  there  came 
A  Form, — 'twas  not  the  Spirit  of  the  wild. 
But  one  more  mortal,  on  whose  wasted  cheek 
Sorrow  had  written  death  ;  a  child  of  Fame, 

Perchance,  yet  far  less  Fame's  than  Nature's  child, 
He  loved  the  languid  lapse  of  streams  to  seek. 

"  Some  cherish'd  woe,  some  treasur'd  fond  regret, 
Lay  round  his  heart,  and  drew  the  gentlest  tear 
That  ever  sanctified  a  pitying  stream. 
Or  crystalliz'd  in  lucent  cells  was  set 
By  Naiads,  in  their  wavy  locks  to  wear 
As  priceless  jewel  of  celestial  beam. 

"  The  dirge  of  Nature  is  her  Streams  !     Their  song 
Speaks  a  soft  music  to  man's  grief,  and  those 
Most  love  them  who  have  loved  all  else  in  vain : 
We  charmed  that  lone  one  as  he  paced  along 

From  the  dark  thraldom  of  his  dream  of  woes, — 
His  sadness  died  before  our  sadder  strain  ! 


Memoir.  xv 

"  Once  more  amid  the  joyaunce  of  tlie  sun, 
And  light,  the  life  of  Nature,  we  have  taught 
The  pensive  mourner  of  our  marge  to  smile 
In  answer  to  our  smile  of  beams,  and  won 

The  venom  from  the  poisoned  heart,  and  wrought 
A  spell  to  bless  the  wearied  brain  awhile  ! 

"  The  imaged  sun  floats  proudly  on  our  breast, 
Ex'er  beside  each  icanderer,  though  there  be 
Many  to  tread  our  path  of  turf  and  flowers  : 
A  thousand  sparkling  orbs  for  one  imprest 
On  us, — for  ours  is  the  bright  mimicry 

Of  Nature,  changing  with  her  changeful  hours. 

"  And  thus  we  have  a  world,  a  lovely  world, 
A  softened  picture  of  the  upper  sphere, 

Sunk  in  our  crystal  depths  and  glassy  caves  ; 
And  every  cloud  beneath  the  heavens  unfurled. 
And  every  shadowy  tint  they  wear,  sleeps  here, 
Here  in  this  voiceless  kingdom  of  the  waves. 

" On  to  the  ocean!  ever,  ever  on! 

Our  banded  waters,  hurrying  to  the  deep. 
Lift  to  the  winds  a  song  of  wilder  strife  ; 
And  white  plumes  glittering  in  to-morrow's  sun. 
Shall  crest  our  waves  when  starting  out  of  sleep 
For  the  glad  tumult  of  their  ocean-life. 

"  On  to  the  ocean !  through  the  midnight  chill. 
Beneath  the  glowing  stars,  by  woodlands  dim, 
A  silvery  wreath  of  beauty  shall  we  twine. 
Thus  may  our  course — ceaseless — unwearied  still — 
Pure — blessing  as  it  flows — aye  shadow  him 
Our  sources  who  unlock'd  with  hand  divine  !" 

The  soft  and  golden  Eve  had  glided  through 
Her  portals  in  the  west,  and  night  came  round. 
The  glamour  ceased,  and  nothing  met  mine  eye 
But  waters,  waters  dyed  in  deepening  blue — 
Nothing  mine  ear,  but  a  low  bubbling  sound. 

Mingled  with  mine — and  the  faint  night-wind's — sigh. 

Among  the  many  debts  of  gratitude  which  the  University  of  Dublin 
owes  to  the  memory  of  Provost  Lloyd,  not  the  least  is  due  for  his  institu- 
tion of  the  Ethical  Moderatorship  at  the  Degree  examination.  The  in- 
tellect of  Ireland  seems  peculiarly  adapted  for  logical  and  ethical  specu- 
lation ;  not  less  so  at  the  present  day  than  ten  centuries  ago,  when  the 
scholastic  fame  of  Scotus  Erigena  was  attracting  to  Irish  Academies  the 
rising  talent  of  Western  Europe.  In  November,  1834,  the  first  examina- 
tion for  the  newly  instituted  prize  took  place  ;  and  the  name  of  William 
Archer  Butler  stands  the  first  upon  the  roll  of  Ethical  Moderators. 

As  his  college  course  was  drawing  to  a  close,  his  friends  became  anxious 


xvi  Memoir, 

that  he  should  decide  on  a  profession,  and  the  Bar  was  urged  on  him  as 
the  field  where  his  talents  would  win  a  sure  and  ample  reward.  But 
the  turmoil  of  the  Courts  was  wholly  abhorrent  to  his  tastes ;  and  he 
shrunk  from  the  thought  of  resigning  the  charms  of  literature  and  moral 
science  even  for  a  certain  prospect  of  the  ermined  robe.  His  habits  in- 
clined him  strongly  to  a  College  life  ;  but  his  distaste  for  mathematics 
had  ever  prevented  him  from  continuous  application  to  the  exact  sciences, 
and  without  a  profound  and  extensive  acquaintance  with  this  department 
of  knowledge  it  is  impossible  to  attain  to  a  Fellowship  in  the  University. 
At  the  expiration  of  his  scholarship,  his  connection  with  the  University 
must  have  ceased  but  for  the  intervention  of  the  excellent  Provost.  The 
discriminating  eye  of  Dr.  Lloyd  perceived  the  extraordinary  abilities  of 
the  first  Ethical  Moderator,  and  the  loss  which  the  University  would  sus- 
tain by  his  removal.  By  his  energetic  exertions,  a  Professorship  of  Moral 
Philosophy  was  founded  in  1837 ;  and  immediately,  on  the  expiration  of 
his  scholarship,  Butler  was  appointed  to  this  distinguished  and  arduous 
post. 

The  young  Professor  was  now  upon  a  field  worthy  of  his  endowments. 
His  lectures  were  as  remarkable  for  their  glowing  eloquence  as  for  their 
profound  philosophy,  and  his  course  soon  attracted  the  thoughtful  minds 
of  the  University  to  his  class-room,  where  they  were  enchanted  and  de- 
lighted with  the  gorgeousness  of  his  diction,  the  felicity  of  his  illustra- 
tion, and  the  depth  of  his  erudition. 

The  "  Dublin  University  Magazine,"  referring  to  his  Ethical  Course  in 
1842,  says:  "On  resuming  our  attendance  we  found  him  sketching  the 
earlier  Grecian  schools,  a  subject  to  which  he  contrived  to  impart  an  in- 
terest, we  confess,  we  did  not  think  could  be  attached  to  it  in  any  hands. 
He  afterwards  proceeded  regularly  to  the  Socratic  revolution,  and  so  to 
Plato,  to  whom  three  or  four  laborious  courses  were  devoted.  Here  he 
was  evidently  on  congenial  ground.  We  thought  his  refutation  of  the 
common  mistakes  about  Plato,  especially  his  explanation  of  the  '  Idea,' 
in  its  various  applications,  as  the  fundamental  point  of  the  Platonic 
philosophy,  peculiarly  impressive  and  convincing.  It  is  curious  enough, 
and  perhaps  characteristic  of  the  times,  that  this  ancient  system  seems 
at  present  to  be  attracting  such  very  general  attention  in  various  coun- 
tries. At  the  same  time  when  Mr.  Butler  was  minutely  unfolding  its 
mysteries  in  Dublin,  his  able  brother  professor  at  Oxford  was,  we  believe, 
performing  the  same  task  there  ;  and  in  France  and  Germany  a  similar 
interest  is,  perhaps,  even  more  deeply  felt.  Aristotle,  also,  received  a 
large  measure  of  consideration ;  but  we  confess  it  did  not  appear  to  us 
(whether  from  the  lecturer's  want  of  sympatliy  with  the  subject,  or  from 
its  own  inferiority  of  interest)  that  this  topic  was  made  as  attractive  as 
liis  disquisitions  on  Plato.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  entire  of  these  courses 
struck  us  as  characterized  by  a  large-minded  appreciation  of  every  variety 


Memoir.  xvii 

of  excellence — a  catholic  spirit,  that  sought  to  detect  good  in  everything, 
and  never  forgot  in  its  defence  of  truth  the  indulgence  due  to  any  errors 
that  could  find  an  apology  in  the  intellectual  and  moral  elevation  of 
those  who  held  them.  In  every  instance  we  observed  that  which  is, 
after  all,  the  true  characteristic  of  the  genuine  philosophic  spirit — a  dis- 
position to  separate  the  germ  of  truth  from  any  errors  that  had  gathered 
round  it,  and,  following  out  the  advice  we  once  heard  him  ably  enforce, 
refute  incomplete  or  partial  views,  not  by  rejecting  but  by  completing 
them.  We  are  more  anxious  for  the  publication  of  these  historical  lec- 
tures than  of  any  other  part  of  the  Professor's  labors.  We  possess 
scarcely  anything  of  this  description,  complete  or  satisfactory,  in  the 
language ;  and  we  certainly  cannot  conceive  any  performances  more  cal- 
culated to  stimulate  the  general  taste  for  this  beautiful,  though  neglected, 
department  of  inquiry." 

Simultaneously  with  his  appointment  to  the  Chair  of  Ethics,  Mr. 
Butler  was  presented  by  the  Board  of  Trinity  College  to  a  Parish  in  the 
Diocese  of  Raphoe,  County  of  Donegal.  He  ministered  to  a  large  and 
delighted  flock  except  when  his  College  duties  demanded  his  presence 
in  Dublin.  In  the  pulpit  he  accommodated  himself  with  admirable  suc- 
cess to  the  comprehension  of  his  people,  and  finding  that  his  rural  audi- 
tory were  more  benefited  by  direct  addresses,  he  soon  ceased  to  write  and 
read  his  sermons.  His  wliole  faculties  were  devoted  to  the  ministry  he  had 
undertaken.  At  one  time  he  was  found  applying  his  musical  skill  to  the 
training  of  a  village  choir.  At  another  he  was  found  casting  aside  his 
loftiest  speculations  in  mental  science  and  his  erudite  researches  into  Gre- 
cian and  German  philosophy,  to  obey  the  call  of  sufi'ering  and  of  sorrow. 
His  parishioners  were  widely  scattered  over  an  extensive  region  on  the 
shores  of  the  Atlantic  ;  and  the  habitations  of  many  of  them  were  difficult 
of  access  even  on  foot,  but  they  were  all  known  to  him,  and  all  visited  with 
constant  assiduity.  In  1842,  he  was  promoted  to  another  Parish  in  the 
same  diocese  by  the  Board  of  Trinity  College,  in  which  his  duties  were 
less  onerous,  but  his  labors  were  scarcely  less  abundant.  In  a  life  thus 
made  up  of  parochial  ministrations  and  closet  study,  interspersed  with 
his  College  duties,  it  is  hard  to  find  exciting  incidents  for  biographical 
narrative.  It  was  during  these  years  of  his  ministerial  and  pastoral 
activity  that  he  became  so  intimately  connected  as  a  j)reacher  with  the 
charities  of  Dublin  and  with  other  leading  institutions  of  a  benevolent 
character,  for  whose  welfare  he  was  often  called  on  to  plead  in  the  pulpit. 

In  the  year  1845,  the  Roman  Catholic  controversy  seems  to  have  largely 
engaged  the  attention  of  Professor  Butler.  The  letters  which  he  produced 
on  this  subject  have  been  collected  and  published  in  a  separate  form. 
In  a  notice  of  the  work,  the  North  British  Review  characterizes  it  as  "  one 
of  the  ablest  refutations-  of  Romanism  in  its  latest  and  most  refined 
forms,"  while  an  English  Prelate  declares  it  to  be  "  a  work  which  ought 
to  be  in  the  library  of  every  Student  of  Divinity." 


xviii  Memoir. 

The  famine  of  1846-7,  wliicli  visited  the  northern  province  in  general 
with  comparative  lightness,  was  felt  with  appalling  intensity  in  the  neigh- 
borhood with  which  Mr.  Butler  was  connected.  The  value  of  the  Paro- 
chial system,  even  in  a  temporal  aspect  in  districts  which  could  he  reached 
bj  no  other  machinery,  was  then  powerfully  impressed  on  the  minds  of 
many  not  disposed  to  regard  the  established  Church  with  friendly  eyes. 
The  exertions  of  Professor  Butler  were  ceaseless  and  untiring.  Literature, 
philosophy,  and  divinity  were  all  postponed  to  the  labors  of  relieving  the 
suffering  in  his  parish.  From  morning  till  evening  he  superintended  the 
distribution  of  food,  often  toiling  with  his  own  hands  in  this  ministry  of 
love.  In  the  latter  part  of  1847,  and  the  first  six  months  of  the  next 
year,  Mr.  Butler  was  employed  in  preparation  for  a  work  on  Faith.  Never 
was  the  great  subject  undertaken  by  one  more  competent  to  attain  the 
end  which  he  designed.  His  collections  contain  a  vast  mass  of  materials 
drawn  from  the  Fathers,  the  Schoolmen,  the  Continental  Reformers,  and 
the  Anglican  Divines.  No  clue,  unfortunately,  is  left  to  guide  us  as  to 
the  method  which  he  intended,  or  the  system  which  he  prox30sed  to 
construct. 

While  thus  employed,  that  summons  came  which  removed  him  from 
the  scene  of  faith  to  the  "fruition  of  the  glorious  Godhead." 

He  had  been  appointed  to  preach  on  the  occasion  of  an  ordination  by 
the  Bishop  of  Raphoe.  Unfortunately,  according  to  his  usual  custom,  the 
discourse  was  unwritten.  His  text  was  Matt,  xxviii.  18-20.  One  of 
the  clergymen  present  has  given  a  description  of  the  great  impression 
made  by  this  discourse.  Speaking  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  he  says 
the  eloquent  preacher  went  on  to  show  that  this  tenet, "  so  far  from  being 
merely  abstract  and  sjpeculative,  was  intensely  personal  and  practical, 
calculated  to  form  the  staple  of  the  teaching  of  an  Apostolic  Church. 
More  especially  as  regarded  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord,  he  said  it  might  be 
proved  by  internal  evidence  to  any  mind  which  could  be  brought  to  feel 
what  sin  was,  for  such  a  mind  could  never  feel  sure  of  an  adequate  atone- 
ment without  an  infinite  sacrifice.  This  led  him  to  speak  of  those  divines 
of  the  Anglican  Church,  in  whose  writings  would  be  found  an  armory 
against  all  heretics,  as  well  as  the  most  touching  lessons  of  practical 
holiness.  He  took  a  series  of  these  authors  ;  he  dismissed  each  with  a 
few  sentences,  but  not  before  he  had  characterized  his  peculiar  excel- 
lencies and  made  the  audience  feel  his  distinguishing  merits.  His  de- 
scription of  Taylor,  in  particular,  was  startlingly  beautiful,  and  literallij 
took  away  our  breath.  He  recommended  us  to  read  some  works  of  a  prac- 
tical character  by  dissenters.  Baxter,  Howe,  and  Edwards,  were  amongst 
the  number  mentioned." 

On  his  return  from  the  discharge  of  this  duty  his  death  sickness  struck 
him.  He  had  heated  liimself  by  walking  before  he  took  his  place  in  the 
public  conveyance  by  which  he  travelled.     He  became  chilled,  and  on 


Memoir.  xix 

his  arrival  at  home  fever  rapidly  set  in.  He  was  soon  aware  of  the  dan- 
gerous nature  of  his  malady,  and  expressed  a  wish,  if  it  were  God's  will, 
that  he  might  survive  one  month,  until  he  had  completed  his  work  on 
Faith.  One  ejaculation  was  constantly  on  his  tongue,  "  Christ  my  right- 
eousness!" The  Rev.  Mr.  Ball,  a  neighboring  clergyman  who  attended 
him  with  a  brother's  tenderness,  declares  that  his  very  wanderings  were 
full  of  the  most  splendid  eloquence  and  exalted  devotion.  He  breathed  his 
last  without  a  struggle,  and  on  the  5th  of  July,  1848,  his  spirit  departed 
so  softly  that  those  who  watched  his  bed  knew  not  that  he  was  no  more 
on  earth.  His  remains  were  laid  in  his  own  churchyard  amid,  the  tears 
of  several  thousands,  who,  with  the  Bishop,  his  brethren  in  the  minis- 
try, and  the  gentry  of  the  neighborhood,  had  attended  on  the  solemn 
occasion. 

This  brief  notice  cannot  be  better  concluded  than  by  applying  to  Pro- 
fessor Butler  the  words  in  which  he  closes  his  own  masterly  sketch  of  the 
life  of  Bishop  Berkeley  : — 

"  We  have  written  of  Berkeley  as  an  Irishman  ;  but  we  feel  that  such 
a  man  belongs  not  to  Ireland,  but  to  human  nature  ;  and  never  did  the 
panegyric  of  epitaph  lay  by  its  customary  pomp  of  falsehood  more  sin- 
cerely than  when  it  called  upon  every  lover  of  religion  and  of  his  country 
to  rejoice  tliat  such  a  man  has  lived.  So  much  for  his  earthly  career  ; 
the  rest  is  hidden  from  our  feeble  eyes.  But  if  we  must  leave  the  Christ- 
ian, the  philosopher,  the  patriot,  at  the  moment  when  all  human  bio- 
graphy must  resign  its  task,  we  may  well  believe  that  his  subsequent 
life  is  taken  up  by  the  pen  of  angelic  recorders  !" 

The  sermons  in  this  volume  were,  with  few  exceptions,  written  without 
any  view  to  publication.  They  have  been  edited  from  manuscripts  often 
abbreviated,  and  very  difficult  to  decipher.  The  rest  of  the  manuscript 
sermons  which  Professor  Butler  left  behind  him  have  been  carefully 
edited  by  the  Rev.  J.  A.  Jeremie,  D.  D.,  Regius  Professor  of  Divinity  in 
the  University  of  Cambridge ;  while  his  lectures  on  the  History  of  An- 
cient Philosophy  have  also  appeared,  with  notes,  by  William  Hepworth 
Thompson,  M.  A.,  Fellow  of  Trinity  College,  and  Regius  Professor  of  Greek 
in  Cambridge.  The  second  series  of  sermons  has,  perhaps,  attracted  even 
more  attention  than  the  volume  now  given  to  the  public  ;  while  the 
literary  world  in  Britain  is  fully  satisfied  that  there  is  no  exaggeration  in 
the  language  of  Mr.  Thompson  when,  in  speaking  of  the  lectures  on  An- 
cient Philosophy,  he  says  : — 

"  Of  the  dialectics  and  physics  of  Plato,  they  are  the  only  exposition 
at  once  full,  accurate,  and  popular,  with  which  I  am  acquainted,  being 
far  more  accurate  than  the  French,  and  incomparably  more  popular  than 
the  German  treatise  on  these  departments  of  the  Platonic  philosophy." 


SERMON  I. 

PRACTICAL  USES  OF  THE  UNCERTAINTY  OF  CHRIST's  COMING. 

(Preached,  in  Advent,  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

Waiting  for  the  coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Chi'ist. — 1  Cor.  i.  7. 

The  Churcli  of  God,  my  brethren,  standing  midway  in 
Eternity,  and  finding  little  in  the  Present  but  trial  and 
difficulty,  looks  for  her  consolation  mainly  to  the  Past  and 
to  the  Future.  These  are  the  inheritance  of  which  Faith 
and  Hope  make  her  the  blessed  possessor.  In  the  Past  she 
contemplates  the  origin,  in  the  Future  the  fulfilment  of  her 
joy;  in  both  alike,  one  unaltered  author  and  channel  of 
mercies.  In  Him — "in  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday 
and  to-day  and  for  ever," — she  beholds  the  sure  foundation 
of  her  own  stability  through  time  and  eternity.  Nor  this 
alone.  Associated  with  Him  in  ineffable  union,  she  reads 
in  His  history  her  own;  she  is  identified  with  all  His  for- 
tunes; she  pursues  His  footsteps;  she  becomes  the  per- 
petuated image  of  His  whole  existence.  As  He  leads,  she 
humbly  follows; — "Christ  the  first — afterward  they  that 
are  Christ's  "  is  the  rule,  not  of  the  resurrection  only,  but 
of  all  things.  He  came  first  in  lowliness,  and  His  Church 
began  in  lowliness ;  He  was  visited  with  the  Holy  Ghost 
in  Jordan,  and  she  on  the  day  of  Pentecost;  He  labored 
in  weariness  and  watchings,  and  had  not  where  to  lay  His 
head  till  the  Cross  became  His  pillow — she,  too,  was  long 
a  houseless  wanderer,  solemnizing  her  holy  mysteries  in 
8 


26  Practical  uses  of  the  [serm.  I. 

sepulchres,  and  scorned  bj  the  souls  she  would  have  shed 
her  blood  to  rescue;  He,  after  His  day  of  martyrdom, 
ascended  in  power  to  heaven,  and  she  after  hers  became 
mighty  upon  earth.  Yet,  as  His  victory  is  to  our  qjq^ 
invisible,  so  is  much  of  her  glory ;  and  as  His  triumph  is 
in  a  manner  unfinished  because  unseen,  so  is  she — and, 
alas !  in  a  degree  far  more — as  yet  imperfect,  ineffectual, 
incomplete.  But  he  shall  once  more  ascend  in  visible 
public  supremacy,  and  then  shall  her  enthronement  be 
public,  and  her  triumph  consummate  also.  Thus,  though 
Christ  be  divine,  and  the  Church  be  human,  the  destinies 
of  both  are  truly  linked  by  bonds  no  strength  shall  ever 
sunder :  to  "  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  he  goeth"  is 
her  office,  her  privilege,  and  her  glory  for  everlasting. 

How  deep  an  interest  gathers  round  every  great  crisis 
in  the  history  of  that  mighty  Leader,  whose  deathless  life 
is  thus  not  only  the  pledge  but  the  model  of  our  own  !  If, 
amid  all  the  errors,  infirmities,  and  failures  of  the  Church, 
she  still  can  catch  in  the  past  story  of  her  immortal  Spouse 
the  image  she  was  meant,  and  in  her  weakness  still  strives 
as  she  may,  to  copy;  what  should  be  her  joy  to  reflect  on 
the  far  more  glorious  series  of  events  in  which  He  is  yet  to 
be  her  forerunner !  If,  as  at  this  season,  she  think  at  each 
returning  service,  with  saddened  jQi  happ}^  heart,  of  that 
mystery  of  unimaginable  love  that  brought  Him  first  "to 
visit  us  in  great  humility;"  how  ought  the  eye  to  kindle 
and  the  heart  to  beat,  as  the  picture  flashes  on  the  imagi- 
nation, of  that  second  coming,  in  which,  through  all  the 
terrors  of  judgment,  her  saints  shall  be  safe,  and  when 
the  anger  that  consumes  a  Avorld  shall  be  but  the  minister 
and  precursor  of  a  love  that  restores  it  immortally  for  her ! 

Yet  of  this  future  coming, — of  this  true  Advent-season 
of  eternity,  though  much  is  known,  much  too  is  hidden. 
There  are  secrets  the  Divine  Bridegroom  whispers  not;  that 
the  "Spirit  and  the  Bride"  may  still  say  "Come."  Between 
the  Church  and  the  Church's  head  there  still  subsists,  even 


SERM.  I.J  Uncertainty  of  Ohrisfs  Coming.  27 

in  this  intimate  union,  a  mysterious  separation  ;  and  on  tlie 
period  of  the  separation  a  lioly  reserve.  It  has  ah^eady 
lasted  for  ages,  and  we  cannot  dare  to  predict  at  what 
epoch  it  is  to  close.  The  veil  that  hangs  before  the  celes- 
tial sanctuary  is  still  undrawn  ;  and  it  is  vain  for  us  to 
"marvel,"  as  of  old  the  expectants  of  Zacharias,  that  the 
High  Priest  of  our  profession  "tarrieth  so  long  in  the 
Temple."  He  has  willed  it,  that,  certain  of  His  eventual 
arrival,  we  should  remain  in  uncertainty  as  to  its  destined 
moment.  "The  times  and  the  seasons  which  the  Father 
hath  put  in  His  own  power"  He  would  have  us  desire,  and 
expect,  and  conjecture,  but  not  dare  to  define. 

At  this  season,  then,  which  the  Church  has  appropriated 
directly  to  the  first,  and  indirectly,  by  the  Spirit  of  her 
services,  to  the  second  coming  of  her  Lord,  we  can  scarcely 
fall  upon  a  more  interesting  subject  of  reflection  than  the 
state  and  form  of  the  Scripture  revelations,  in  special  relation 
to  this  very  uncertainty  Avith  which  He  has  been  pleased 
to  invest  the  awful  hour  of  His  return  amons^  us.  The 
numberless  schemes  of  prophetic  chronology  that  abound 
in  the  Church,  while  they  worthily  fulfil  His  purpose  that 
our  thoughts  should  be  much  engaged  in  this  holy  theme, 
as  clearly  evince,  by  their  mutual  differences.  His  equal  pur- 
pose, that  absolute  certainty  regarding  it  should  as  yet  be 
refused  to  man.  Why  is  it  good  for  us  to  be  thus  denied 
certainty,  yet  invited  to  anticipation  ?  Why  has  He  made 
us  sure  of  the  event  and  uncertain  of  the  time  ?  Why  is 
this  combination  of  knowledo-e  and  icrnorance  better  for  us 
than  a  clear  and  absolute  knowledge  could  be?  What  are 
the  feelings  which,  by  this  arrangement,  He  would  substi- 
tute in  place  of  the  undoubting  assurance  He  withholds  ? 

The  variety,  the  apparent  contrariety  of  the  Scripture 
declarations  as  to  the  immediacy  or  remoteness  of  the 
second  Advent  of  Christ  is,  as  you  know,  a  main  cause  of 
the  perplexity  which  involves  this  subject.  Of  course  I  do 
not  mean  on  this  occasion  to  betray  j^ou  into  the  labyrinth  of 


28  Practical  uses  of  the  [SERM.  T. 

dissension  and  speculation  in  which  it  is  entangled.  I  re- 
strict myself  to  a  single,  comprehensive,  and  practical  train 
of  thought.  I  seem  to  myself  to  see  in  this  very  variety, 
even  in  this  seeming  opposition  of  predictions,  an  arrange- 
ment specially  and  admirably  adapted  for  the  purpose  of 
cherishing  that  incessant  expectation,  stimulating  that  eager 
inquiry,  and  enkindling  that  anxious  desire,  which  together 
form  the  homage  of  intellect  and  affections  that  an  absent 
Lord  demands  and  approves  in  His  servants.  I  find  that 
this  blending  of  light  and  obscurity  leaves  us  in  a  state  more 
suitable  and  more  profitable  than  either  absolute  ignorance 
or  perfect  knowledge  ;  that  it  awakens  feelings  which  the 
former  would  fail  to  excite,  and  the  latter  would  quench  as 
they  arose.  At  the  same  time, — which  is  most  remarka- 
ble and  important, — I  see  this  diversified  language  of  pro- 
phecy in  no  case  chargeable  with  real  contradiction ;  I  see 
it  everywhere  so  skilfully  guarded  and  compensated,  as, 
on  striking  the  balance  of  the  whole,  to  be  found  affirming 
nothing  which  any  honest  inquirer  can  regard  as  refuted 
by  the  result. 

In  asking  you,  then,  to  enter  with  me  a  little  more 
deeply  into  this  inquirj^,  let  me  endeavor  to  show  you 
how  carefully  the  word  of  God  leaves  the  period  uncertain, 
how  carefully  it  presses  it  upon  us  as  ever  impending,  how 
carefully  this  is  done  without  real  contradiction,  and  how 
the  whole  arrangement  tends  to  produce  practical  results 
of  the  highest  value. 

At  one  time,  then,  our  Lord  seems  to  speak  as  if,  in  the 
literal  and  ordinary  acceptation  of  the  words,  "  immediately 
after"  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem, — which  "this  genera- 
tion should  not  pass"  till  it  had  witnessed,  the  standard  of 
His  glory  should  be  unfurled  in  the  heavens ;  and  as  if  the 
fall  of  unhappy  Israel  should  be  the  signal  to  His  trusting 
disciples  that  their  "final  redemption  drew  nigh."  With 
the  same  apparent  significance  His  Apostle  Paul  speaks  of 
himself  and  his  brethren  as  "  them  that  are  alive  and  re- 


SEKM.  I.]  Uncertainty  of  Christ's  Comiivj.  29 

main"  to  the  coming  of  Christ  in  glory;  and  declares  that 
"3'et  a  little  while,  and  he  that  shall  come  will  come,  and 
will  not  tarrj,"  St  James  announces  that  "  the  coming  of 
the  Lord  is  nigh;"-  St  Peter,  that  "the  end  of  all  things  is 
at  hand;"  and  Christ  himself,  reappearing  in  the  revela- 
tion to  St  John,  closes  His  warnings  with  the  thrice-repeat- 
ed assurance,  "I  come  quickly."  Those  who  interpret  such 
declarations  in  the  more  obvious  sense  would,  of  course, 
add  to  them,  as  confirmations,  all  those  numerous  passages 
in  which  St  Paul  exhorts  his  converts  (as  in  the  text)  to 
"  wait  for  the  coming  of  the  Lord  Jesus,"  to  "  wait  for  the 
Son  from  heaven,"  to  "Look  for  the  blessed  hope  and 
glorious  appearing  of  Grod  the  Saviour,"  to  "  wait  patiently 
for  Christ," — expressions  which  at  first  seem  to  make  the 
certainty  of  His  speedy  manifestation  a  direct  practical 
motive  and  maxim. 

It  is,  of  course,  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  these  phrases 
have  formed  a  favorite  topic  of  infidel  sarcasm.  It  is,  indeed, 
no  more  than  our  Lord's  own  intimation  that  His  professed 
servants  would  be  found  to  "say  in  their  hearts  that  their 
Lord  delayed  His  coming;"  no  more  than  St  Peter's  predic- 
tion, that  "in  the  last  days  should  come  scofi:ers  saying, 
Where  is  the  promise  of  His  coming?" 

Yet  nothing  can  be  more  demonstrably  certain  than  that 
these  passages,  however  calculated  to  stimulate  expectation, 
were  never  intended  to  assert  the  immediate  advent  of 
Christ.  It  is  plain  that  there  are  two  supposable  methods 
of  argument  by  which  such  a  point  as  this  might  be  estab- 
lished; either  by  going  into  a  detailed  investigation  of  the 
passages  adduced,  which,  however,  to  do  it  justice,  would 
probably  be  too  elaborate  an  undertaking  for  the  present 
occasion;  or  by  adducing  contemporary  assertions,  in  direct 
negation  of  the  alleged  doctrine,  from  the  lips  of  the  very 
'authors  themselves,  a  proof  which  I  prefer,  as,  for  our  ] 're- 
sent purpose,  simpler  and  more  satisfactory.  Now  thefcc 
fall  naturally  into  tiro  classes.     Some  seem  to  point  to  a 


30  Practical  uses  of  the  [SERM.  I. 

remote  period,  at  least  as  forcibly  as  the  passages  formerly 
cited  point  to  a  nearer  one;  others  expressly  mention  the 
period  as  one  on  which  all  more  definite  information  was 
to  be  purposely  withheld.  It  is  plain  that  both  equally 
negative  the  supposition  of  an  intention  in  the  inspired 
authors  to  limit  the  period  to  their  own  generation. 

Thus,  the  same  Lord,  who  seemed  just  now  to  announce 
so  speedy  an  arrival,  intimates  that  the  Gospel  must  be 
preached  to  a  vast  extent  before  "the  end"  come;  and  com- 
pares His  own  return  to  that  of  the  master  of  servants,  who 
comes  "after  a  long  time"  to  reckon  with  them.  The  same 
St  Paul  who  addressed  the  Thessalonians  in  his  first  Epistle, 
as  if  they,  yet  alive,  were  to  behold  the  coming  of  Christ,  in 
his  second  warns  them  that  his  words  were  meant  to  justify 
no  such  certainty,  inasmuch  as  that  the  day  of  Christ  was 
to  be  preceded  by  a  great  and  conspicuous  apostasy.  The 
same  St  James  who  had  spoken  of  the  same  coming  as 
"drawing  nigh,"  introduces  his  assertion  by  exhortations 
of  endurance,  and  illustrations  derived  from  the  "long  pa- 
tience" of  the  husbandman  waiting  for  the  fruit  of  the  earth. 
The  same  St  Peter,  wdio  in  his  first  Epistle  contemplates 
the  "end  of  all  things  as  at  hand,"  and  bids  the  Christian 
hope  for  the  "grace  to  be  brought  at  the  revelation  of 
Christ,"  in  his  second  obviates  objections  to  the  tardy  march 
of  the  expected  Judge,  not  by  denying  the  fact,  but  by 
reminding  his  reader  that  "  the  Lord  is  not  slack  as  men 
count  slackness,  but  long-suffering  to  us-ward,"  and  that 
the  cycles  of  Ilis  providence  transcend  our  feeble  grasp, 
"one  day  being  with  Him  as  a  thousand  years,  and  a  thou- 
sand 3^ear3  as  one  day."  The  same  book  of  revelation 
which  promises  the  rapid  return  of  Christ  unfolds  an  ante- 
cedent series  of  events  probably  sufficient  to  occupy  long 
revolving  ages. 

The  other  class  of  passages,  which  expressly  deny  us  all 
definite  information  as  to  the  Advent,  are  even  more  con- 
vincing, because  even  more  distinct.     We  need  not  go  be- 


SERM.  I.]  Uncerialnty  of  Christ's  Coming.  31 

yond  tlie  language  of  our  Lonl,  whom  we  find  employing 
every  form  of  illustration  to  represent  the  unexpeetedness, 
even  to  Ilis  own  servants,  of  an  event  which  surely  could 
not  be  unexpected  if  He  had  taught  them  to  prepare  for  it 
as  fixed  and  immediate.  "  Of  that  day  and  hour  knoweth 
no  man,  no,  not  the  anojels  which  are  in  heaven,  neither 
the  Son  [in  His  capacity  as  human  prophet],  but  the 
Father."  "The  Son  of  man  cometh  at  an  hour  when  ye 
think  not."  "The  master  of  the  house"  may  come  "at 
even,  or  at  midnight,  or  at  the  cock-crowing,  or  in  the  morn- 
ing," But  whenever  he  come,  it  shall  be  "as  a  thief,"  it 
shall  be  as  the  flood  of  Noah,  it  shall  be  "as  a  snare  on  all 
them  that  dwell  on  the  face  of  the  whole  earth." 

It  is,  then,  palpable,  as  against  the  infidel  objector,  that 
the  expressions  wliich  seem  to  predict  an  immediate  arrival 
cannot  have  been  thus  meant  hj  authors  who  in  the  same 
discourse, — often  in  the  same  context, — speak  of  its  period 
as  probably  remote,  and  as  wholly  unrevealed.  You  will 
naturall}'"  ask,  what  then  could  have  been  the  origin  or 
purport  of  these  ambiguous  phrases?  Why  is  the  Advent 
ever  said  to  be  "  near"  if  it  be  certain  that  those  who  said 
so  cannot  have  meant  their  words  to  be  understood  as  lite- 
ral and  positive  assertions  of  its  speedy  approach  ?  The 
ordinary  solution  refers  them  all  to  the  destruction  of  Jeru- 
salem, as  being  virtually  "the  coming  of  Christ,"  in  the 
manifestation  of  His  divine  power,  to  take  vengeance  on 
his  enemies,  and  in  the  overthrow  of  the  old,  as  a  necessary 
preliminary  to  the  establishment  of  His  own  new.  Dispen- 
sation. But  the  truth  is,  that  this  interpretation,  however 
it  seem  to  apply  in  some  instances,  is  seldom  rigorously 
necessary.  The  difficulty  undoubtedly  arises  from  the 
prejudices  of  our  limited  capacity,  and  still  more  limited 
compass  of  experience.  Let  the  language  of  Scripture  be 
estimated  in  reference  to  the  mighty  system  of  which  it 
treats,  and  the  apparent  contradiction  nearly  or  wholly 
vanishes.     It  is  plain  that  that  period  which  is  distant  in 


32  Practical  uses  of  the  [serm.  i. 

one  scheme  of  tilings  may  be  near  in  anotlier,  wliere  events 
are  on  a  vaster  scale,  and  moved  in  a  mightier  orbit.  That 
which  is  a  whole  life  to  tlie  ephemera  is  but  a  day  to  the 
man;  that  which  in  the  brief  succession  of  anthentic  human 
history  is  counted  as  remote  is  but  a  single  page  in  the 
volume  of  the  heavenly  records.  The  coming  of  Christ 
may  be  distant  as  measured  on  the  scale  of  human  life,  but 
may  be  "near,"  and  "at  hand,"  and  "at  the  door,"  when 
the  interval  of  the  two  advents  is  compared,  not  merely 
with  the  four  thousand  years  which  were  but  its  prepara- 
tion, but  with  the  line  of  infinite  ages  which  it  is  itself  pre- 
paring. View  the  interval  that  spans  the  first  and  second 
coming,  as  we  do,  who  are  close  to  the  object,  because  in 
the  midst  of  it,  and  it  swells  to  a  vast  extent ;  view  it  as  we 
shall  yet  do,  from  some  far  height  in  the  measureless  eter- 
nity of  the  Church  triumphant;  view  it  as  these  holy  men 
were  wont  to  do,  the  first  stage  in  an  infinite  progress,  and 
it  lessens  to  a  point !  This  seems  to  be  sufficient  to  account 
for  the  use  of  terms  importing  nearness,  rapidity,  immediate 
approach,  without  supposing  them  in  any  respect  contra- 
dicted by  the  event.  The  coming  of  Christ  was  remote  to 
the  Apostles,  as  the  opposite  side  of  this  earth  is  remote  to 
us;  it  was  "near"  to  the  Apostles,  as  the  same  breadth  of 
the  globe  is  still  but  a  point  in  the  S3^stem  of  revolving 
worlds  to  which  our  o-lobe  belono's. 

But  of  this  peculiar  choice  of  language  there  is  something 
more  to  be  said,  in  relation  to  my  immediate  subject,  the 
practical  use  and  purpose  of  this  complicated  arrangement  of 
the  predictions  about  the  Lord's  coming.  It  would  be  the 
perfection  of  a  revelation  designed  to  operate  on  the  heart, 
to  employ  forms  of  phraseology  which  shoidd  at  the  same 
time  justify  themselves  to  the  reflective  inquirer,  and  yet, 
to  the  mass  of  mankind  (for  whose  use  it  must  ever  be 
mainly  meant),  tend  to  suggest  thoughts  and  feelings,  such 
as  a  more  literal  statement  must  in  many  cases  altogether 
fail  to  generate.     This,  which  is  one  of  tlie  chief  excellen- 


SERM.  I.]  Uncertainty  of  Christ's  Comiruj.  33 

cies  of  the  whole  Bible  language  (though  a  common  ground 
of  the  short-sighted  cavils  of  infidelity),  is  remarkably  ex- 
emplified in  the  case  before  us.  These  forms  of  phrase, 
which  startle  us  as  with  the  very  presence  of  Christ,  seem 
specially  and  exquisitely  adapted  to  keep  alive  expectation, 
by  bringing  emphatically  before  us  the  perpetual  jJOSsikYzV?/ 
of  an  immediate  manifestation  ;  and  thus,  indirectly  second 
all  those  express  exhortations  which  make  the  hope  and 
desire  of  the  coming  of  Christ  a  leading  motive  and  impulse 
in  the  whole  life  of  the  Christian  disciple. 

It  is  the  need  and  the  value  of  these  and  similar  prac- 
tical habits,  which,  as  I  have  intimated,  have  carried  the 
revelation  of  the  Advent  of  Christ  to  a  certain  point,  and 
at  that  point  have  bid  it  stop ;  have  left  the  fact  certain,  but 
the  time  unfixed.  The  impatient  curiosity  of  man  mur- 
murs at  such  an  arrangement;  scepticism  scorns  a  reve- 
lation whose  scope  is  so  limited;  and  even  piety  sometimes 
dares  to  wish  it  enlarged.  It  is  well  to  show  to  both,  in  a 
few  words,  how  much  should  be  sacrificed  if  their  wishes 
were  gratified. 

It  is  the  confessed  object  of  our  blessed  Master,  in  train- 
ing His  disciples  for  glory,  that  they  should,  in  the  school 
of  this  world,  learn  such  divine  arts  as  those  of  hope,  of 
watchfulness,  of  fidelity,  of  humility,  of  earnest  inquiry,  of 
reverential  awe.  Consider  for  a  moment  what  effect  the 
definite  announcement  of  His  hour  of  coming  would  pro- 
duce upon  such  attributes  as  those ;  consider  what  its  un- 
certainty ought  to  effect  in  ourselves. 

If,  for  example,  it  be  our  duty  to  hope  and  haste  unto 
this  glorious  Epiphany,  I  may  ask  these  precipitate  specu- 
lators, how  is  the  preservation  of  this  hope  consistent  with 
a  certainty, — and  still  more  a  certainty  of  distance  ?  Would 
not  the  anxious  and  desiring  solicitude  that  hangs  upon  the 
prospect  of  his  appearing  be  suddenly,  for  all  save  the 
single  generation  that  was  to  witness  it,  chilled  into  indif- 
ference  by  knowing  it  postponed   in   His  own  infallible 


34  Practical  uses  of  the  [serm.  I. 

announcement  ?  Again,  if  be  would  keep  us  in  tliat  state 
of  icatclifulness  whicli  He  has  himself  so  often  and  earnestly 
impressed,  is  it  not  to  neutralize  His  own  purpose  to  re- 
move the  uncertainty  which  alone  can  make  that  vigilaoce 
necessary  ?  If,  too,  it  be  His  declared  intention  to  test  our 
fidelity^  does  he  not  destroy  His  own  avowed  test,  by  ren- 
dering preparation  necessary  only  to  those  who  are  ap- 
prised of  his  approaching  presence  ?  He  desires  to  keep  us 
humhle  as  the  sole  path  of  ultimate  exaltation.  This  very 
limitation,  upon  the  most  awful  of  all  points  of  knowledge, 
is  eminently  calculated  to  cherish  such  a  temper.  Yet  He 
would  also  habituate  us  to  earnest  inquiry  and  a  holy  curi- 
osity as  to  His  will  and  His  movements ;  to  publish  them 
is  to  supersede  it.  Finally,  He  would  have  us  revere  and 
dread,  even  while  we  trust  and  love  Him ;  and  this  He 
accomplishes,  as  in  other  ways,  so  by  shrouding  His  march 
in  mystery,  revealing  enough  to  win  affection  and  to  guide 
duty,  but  reserving  His  deeper  purposes  for  the  council- 
chamber  of  the  Holy  Trinity. 

Such  are  some  of  the  grounds  Vvdiich  we  may  presume 
have  operated  to  produce  this  limitation  of  the  Church's 
knowledge  as  to  the  awful  hour  of  her  Lord's  Advent ;  and 
such  (you  will  all  have  anticipated  me  in  observing)  are 
equally  forcible  grounds  for  leaving  in  similar  uncertainty 
that  hour  of  death,  which  to  each  individual  is  practically 
the  coming  of  his  Judge.  Such  uncertainty  is  far  more 
valuable  than  any  certainty,  for  it  is  essential  to  our  spiri- 
tual discipline,  which  that  certainty  would  disturb  or  sus- 
pend. But  while  Christ  is  thus  hidden  alike  as  to  person 
and  purposes,  He  has  not  left  Himself  without  witnesses 
on  earth.  Our  own  senses  and  experience  are,  in  some 
measure,  permitted  to  assist  our  belief;  there  is  a  sense  in 
which  we  walk  not  alone  "by  faith,"  but  "by  sight"  also. 
The  Christian  is  not  without  startling  and  palpable  proofs 
of  the  realit}^  of  the  supernatural  government  under  which 
he  lives.     Two  mighty  monuments,  almost  coeval,  alike 


SEKM.  I.]  Uncerlainty  of  ChrisCs  Coming.  35 

manifest  to  our  ej^es,  alike  (save  by  His  Providence)  inex- 
plicable to  our  reason,  bear  engraven  on  their  majestic 
front  tbe  awful  truth  of  the  God  of  the  Christians;  two 
monuments, — of  mercy  one,  of  vengeance  the  other, — that 
silently  arose  as  He  left  the  world,  that  shall  stand  un- 
shaken till  He  retui^n  to  judge  it, — the  Church  Catholic 
and  the  Jewish  people.  His  acceptors  and  His  rejectors. 
His  brethren  in  the  spirit  and  His  brethren  in  the  flesh,  are 
alike  perpetuated  to  be  His  evidence.  "I  am  with  you 
alway  till  the  end  of  the  world,"  was  His  promise  to  the 
one ;  "  Hereafter  shall  ye  see  the  Son  of  man  coming  in  the 
clouds  of  heaven,"  His  declaration  to  the  other.  If  our 
faith  is  slow  to  apprehend  an  invisible  King,  let  our  eyes 
fall  upon  these  His  visible  attestations.  They  stand  in  the 
world  as  the  unchanging  token  and  warrant  of  His  truth, 
changeless  alone  while  all  around  them  changes.  Already 
some  eighteen  centuries  have  tried  their  stability.  Can  we 
withhold  our  recognition  of  a  power  before  which  time 
sinlvs  conquered  and  exhausted?  Can  we  refuse  to  accept 
these  living  and  breathing  proofs,  that  though  unseen  He 
is  not  unreal, — that  of  very  truth  "  all  power  in  heaven  and 
earth  is  given  unto  Him," — that  therefore,  if  He  who  had 
power  to  begin  and  continue  have  power  to  finish,  the  con- 
summation is  as  sure  as  the  commencement,  the  second 
Advent  as  certain  as  the  first, — yea,  that  though  now  and 
awhile  it  be  folded  in  its  cloud,  yet  "  as  the  Ugldning  cometh 
out  of  the  east  and  shineth  even  unto  the  west,  so  shall  also 
the  coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  be"  ? 

But  to  seek  to  penetrate  more  closely  into  these  awful 
secrets  is  vain.  A  sacred  obscurity  envelopes  them ;  the 
cloud  that  shrouded  the  actual  presence  of  God  on  the 
mercy-seat  shrouds  still  His  expected  presence  on  the 
throne  of  judgment.  It  is  a  purposed  obscurity,  a  most 
salutary  and  useful  obscurity,  a  wise  and  merciful  denial  of 
knowledge.  In  this  matter  it  is  His  gracious  will  to  be 
the  perpetual  subject  of  watchfulness,  expectation,  conjee- 


86  Practical  uses  of  the  [SERM.  I. 

ture,  fear,  desire, — but  no  more.  To  cherish  anticipation, 
He  has  permitted  gleams  of  light  to  cross  the  darkness ;  to 
baffle  presumption,  He  has  made  them  only  gleams.  He 
has  harmonized  with  consummate  skill,  every  part  of  His 
revelation  to  produce  this  general  result ; — now  speaking 
as  if  a  few  seasons  more  were  to  herald  the  new  heaven  and 
the  new  earth,  now  as  if  His  days  were  thousands  of  years; 
at  one  moment  whispering  into  the  ear  of  His  disciple,  at 
another  retreating  into  the  depth  of  infinite  ages.  It  is 
His  purpose  thus  to  live  in  our  faith  and  hope,  remote  yet 
near,  pledged  to  no  moment,  possible  at  any;  worshipped 
not  with  the  consternation  of  a  near,  or  the  indifference  of 
a  distant  certainty,  but  with  the  anxious  vigilance  that 
awaits  a  contingency  ever  at  hand.  This,  the  deep  devo- 
tion of  watchfulness,  humility,  and  awe.  He  who  knows  ns 
best  knows  to  be  the  fittest  posture  for  our  spirits ;  there- 
fore does  He  preserve  the  salutary  suspense  that  ensures  it, 
and  therefore  will  He  determine  His  Advent  to  no  definite 
day  in  the  calendar  of  eternity. 

But  every  provision  of  divine  wisdom  is  liable  to  human 
perversion  ;  the  more  admirable  they  are  in  merciful  ar- 
rangement, the  more  easily  is  their  delicate  mechanism  of 
motives  disordered.  The  very  uncertainty,  which  was 
meant  as  a  perpetual  stirnulant  to  watchfulness,  is  abused 
to  security  ;  and  exactly  as  the  invisibility  of  the  Creator, 
which  is  His  perfection,  produces  the  miserable  creed  of  the 
atheist,  the  obscurity  that  veils  the  hour  of  judgment, 
though  meant  in  merciful  warning,  persuades  the  ungodly 
heart  that  none  is  ever  to  arrive. 

But  it  is  not  so.  Nature,  and  grace  alike  proclaim  a  glo- 
rified Messiah  as  indispensable  to  complete  their  appointed 
course.  Nature,  through  all  her  regions, — uncorrupted 
Nature, — cries  aloud  for  Him  who  is  to  rectify  her  un- 
willing disorders,  to  repair  her  shattered  structures,  to  re- 
store her  oppressed  energies,  to  vindicate  her  voice  of  con- 
science long  despised,  her  sublime  testimony  to  the  Creator 


SERM.  I  ]  Uncertainty  of  Christ's  Coming.  37 

so  long  questioned  or  overlooked.  But  what  is  even  this 
to  the  demand  of  grace  for  the  coming  of  Him,  who  is  not 
only  "the  great  God,"  but  "our  Saviour"?  If  the  whole 
creation  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain  for  the  manifesta- 
tion of  the  sons  of  God,  what  shall  be  the  desire  of  the 
sons  of  God  themselves  ?  What  shall  be  their  ardor  to 
realize  that  "liberty  of  the  children  of  God,"  of  which 
such  great  things  are  spoken;  to  behold  their  own  low- 
liness glorified  in  the  glory  of  the  Man  of  JN'azareth ;  their 
humble  labors  recognized  by  the  approval  of  a  God  once 
more  manifest  in  the  flesh,  their  persevering  faith  vin- 
dicated, their  hope  consummated,  their  charity  brighten- 
ing into  a  reward  eternal  and  infinite?  They  know  well 
the  value  of  that  union  of  which  I  have  spoken,  which 
identifies  the  triumph  of  the  Saviour  and  the  saved.  They 
rejoice  to  think  that,  as  a  humiliated  Kedeemer  came  first 
to  point  us  the  path  of  humiliation,  so  must  a  glorified 
Redeemer  point  us  the  path  of  glory  ;  that  the  Captain  of 
Salvation,  who  bore  the  cross  in  front  of  His  army  of  be- 
lievers, must  come  to  teach  them  also  how  to  wear  the 
crown.  Yes,  all  proclaims  and  demands  the  return  of  Christ 
to  the  world, — all  but  the  unsanctified  heart  of  man  I 
There  alone  no  voice  is  heard  to  welcome  the  mighty 
Stranger ;  there  alone  the  dawn  of  this  eternal  orb  is  con- 
templated with  hatred,  horror,  and  dismay.  Hearts  that  are 
inured  to  the  world's  corruptions,  how  shall  they  hail  an 
immortality  of  meekness,  simplicity,  and  love  ?  Spirits 
habituated  to  seek  unholy  ends  by  means  yet  more  unholy, 
how  shall  they  endure  "the  bringing  in  of  an  everlasting 
righteousness"  ?  Those  whose  whole  hopes,  prospects,  and 
calculations  are  bound  up  with  the  fortunes  of  the  world  as 
it  is,  how  shall  they  regard  otherwise  than  with  terror  this 
awful  revolution  in  the  administration  of  the  universe, 
when  He  who  now  rules  behind  a  mass  of  permitted  evil 
shall  himself  personally  and  visibly  assume  the  reins  of 
universal  empire?  The  prophet  has  seen  and  heard  their 
4 


88  Practical  uses  of  the  Uncertainty^  &c.       [SEKM.  I. 

terrors,  wlien  he  represents  even  "the  kings  of  the  earth, 
and  the  great,  and  the  rich,  and  the  mighty,"  as  saying  "  to 
the  mountain  and  rocks.  Fall  on  us,  and  hide  us  from  the 
face  of  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  from  the  wrath 
of  the  Lamb."  "  The  wrath  of  the  Lamh  /"  The  word,  even 
in  a  context  of  vengeance  and  of  woe,  still  whispers  mercy, 
grace,  and  peace.  Even  on  the  judgment-throne  it  is  rich 
with  the  tender  memories  of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary;  even 
amid  the  dread  solemnities  of  omnipotent  anger  it  speaks 
of  a  scene  more  sublimely  divine  than  all  their  terrors- 
The  chosen  title  of  crucified  innocence,  of  patience  unmur- 
muring, of  love  self-sacrificing, — I  Avill  leave  its  echoes  un- 
disturbed to  be  the  last  that  occupy  your  ears.  After  so 
much  that  is  fearful  and  appalling,  I  will  leave  the  thoughts 
it  suggests  to  soothe,  revive,  and  animate  jour  hearts ;  to 
win  you  to  Him  who  would  rather  be  known  in  love  than 
in  terror,  and  who  still  defers  the  hour  of  His  coming  only 
that  He  may  multiply  the  hosts  of  His  redeemed  ;  to  re- 
mind you  that  there  is  a  blood  of  the  covenant  which  still 
appeals  from  Christ  the  Judge  to  Christ  the  Sacrifice,  and 
renders  even  divine  vengeance  itself  innocuous,  since  to 
reach  the  repentant  sinner,  it  must  brave  the  meek  omnipo- 
tence of  the  Lamb  of  God.  Such  blessed  evidence  of  love 
unspeakable  are  still  the  weapons  He  prefers  in  the  con- 
quest of  our  affections;  it  is  by  the  recollection  of  such 
marvels  of  mercy  He  would  attract  us  to  see  in  His  appear- 
ing the  advent  of  one  who,  if  mighty  to  avenge,  is  yet 
mightier  to  save, — to  rejoice  in  a  power  which  a  love  more 
glorious  than  even  that  power  shall  direct  and  govern  to 
oiir  happiness, — and  thence  from  heart  and  soul  to  echo  the 
prayer  with  which,  as  if  to  bind  them  both  for  ever  in  our 
thoughts,  the  volume  that  records  the  first  Advent  closes, 
anticipating,  desiring,  beseeching  the  second:  "Even  so, 
co'me,  Lord  Jesus !" 


SERMON  II. 

THE  MYSTERY  OF  THE  HOLY  INCAENATION. 

(Preached  on  Christmas-Day.) 

And  the  angel  answered  and  said  unto  her,  The  Holy  Ghost  shall  come  upon 
thee,  and  the  power  of  the  Highest  shall  overshadow  thee  :  therefore  also  that 
Holy  Thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called  the  Son  of  God. — 
Luke  i.  35. 

There  is  a  very  deep  and  very  wouderful  connexion  be- 
tween the  relations  of  our  Lord  Christ  to  his  Father  and  to 
us.  In  heaven,  and  from  all  eternity,  He  has  been  a  Son, 
"the  only  begotten  of  the  Father;"  on  earth  He  became  the 
Son  of  the  Father  again,  and  by  a  new  title, — ^' therefore^ 
that  Holy  Thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called 
the  Son  of  God," — He  being  by  the  same  wondrous  act  the 
Son  also  of  an  earthly  parent.  By  His  resurrection  from  the 
dead  He  acquired  another,  a  third  title  to  divine  Sonship ; 
as  St  Paul  seems  to  explain  the  matter  in  the  thirteenth 
chapter  of  the  Acts,  applying  to  the  resurrection  of  Christ 
the  declaration  of  the  second  Psalm, — "Thou  art  my  son, 
this  day  have  I  begotten  thee ;"  confirmed  by  a  similar  ap- 
plication in  Heb.  v.  5.  Now  in  all  these  three  forms  and 
grounds  of  divine  Sonship  we  are  interested.  In  the  first^ 
because,  doubtless,  it  is  the  eternal  model  and  type  upon 
which  all  other  spiritual  filiations  were  primarily  formed  and 
designed.  It  is  one  of  the  ways  in  which  we  are  made  like 
to  God,  imitators  of  Deity,  "partakers  of  a  divine  nature," 
that  we  should  be  thus  bound  to  God,  even  as  the  Second 


40  Tht  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnalion.     [SERM.  Ii. 

Person  of  the  Trinity  to  the  First.  Nay,  probably,  since 
the  family  relationship  itself  is  nnquestionably  a  pure  and 
holy  thing,  it  was  originally  created  as  a  sensible  image  of 
that  ineffable  relationship  of  the  everlasting  Father  and 
Son;  a  perpetual  picture  in  time  of  that  great  fact  in 
eternity.  Instead  of  supposing,  as  speculators  often  do, 
that  the  words,  as  applied  to  the  divine  persons,  are  a  mere 
metaphor  derived  from  the  earthly  relation,  why  not  rather 
conceive  that  the  earthly  relation  was  itself  created  to  be 
the  counterpart,  and  symbol,  and  memorial  of  the  heavenly  ? 
And  possibly  too,  the  apostolic  polity  of  the  Church,  with 
its  paternal,  filial,  fraternal  relations,  may  have  had  some 
similar  ground  deeper  than  we  can  fathom ;  may  have  been 
intended  to  reproduce  in  that  "new  earth,"  which  is  the 
Church,  another  perpetuated  image  and  symbol  of  the  same 
eternal  connection; — a  supposition  which  may  chance  to 
appear  less  fanciful  when  you  remember  in  what  peril  that 
great  doctrine  of  the  Father  and  the  Son  has  ever  been  of 
corruption  or  extinction,  in  almost  every  religious  commu- 
nity where  the  apostolic  polity  has  been  rejected.  With 
the  second^ — the  Sonship  by  Incarnation, — we  are  yet  more 
deeply  concerned,  because  it  laid  the  foundation  (whether 
as  designed  from  everlasting  or  at  length  realized  in  the 
fulness  of  time)  of  all  filial  relation  between  God  and  man, 
being  itself  the  conduit  that  connects  deity  and  its  graces 
with  humanity  and  its  weakness;  the  source,  cause,  and 
principle  of  every  divine  blessing  whatsoever.  And  with 
the  third^ — the  Sonship  of  Christ  by  Resurrection, — we  are 
again  more  intimately  connected  than  even  with  the  last ; 
for  with  this  wc  have  a  real  and  direct,  though  most  myste- 
rious communion,  in  that  twofold  regeneration  (for  to 
both  the  same  name  is  instructively  given)  of  which  we  are 
made  the  possessors  and  the  heirs;  the  regeneration  of  the 
soul  in  this  life,  and  that  of  the  body  in  the  life  to  come  ; 
both  of  which  are  expressly  said  to  make  us  "the  sons  of 
God,"  because  the  one  only  completes  and  consummates 


SERM.  II.]      The  Mijstery  of  the  Ilohj  Incarnation,  4i 

the  other;  and  in  both  of  which  we  are  "the  children  of 
God,  being  the  children  of  the  resurrection,''^ — of  a  resurrec- 
tion Avhicli  is  now  spiritual  (risen  with  Christ),  and  which 
shall  hereafter  combine  spirit  and  body  together.  And 
hence  it  is  that  St  Paul  (Eora.  viii.)  makes  that  future 
resurrection  "a  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God,"  an  un- 
veiling and  public  recognition  of  their  sonship ;  and  hence, 
too,  it  is  that  in  the  one  supernatural  gift  he  finds  the 
source  of  both  the  blessings.  "If  the  Spirit  of  Him  that 
raised  up  Jesus  from  the  dead  dwell  in  you.  He  that  raised 
■up  Christ  from  the  dead  shall  also  quicken  your  mortal 
bodies  by  His  spirit  that  dwelleth  in  you."  The  Spirit 
which  gives  the  adoption  here  is  the  germ  of  the  Spirit 
which  gives  the  resurrection  hereafter :  and  the  resurrec- 
tion itself  is  but  the  adoption  made  visible  in  glory. 

You  see,  then,  how  deeply,  in  every  form  of  His  divine 
relationship,  we  are  interested  in  "  the  Son  of  God ;"  how 
in  ITis  generation  we  see  our  regeneration;  and  how,  in 
this  sense  no  "jealous  God,"  He  would  make  us  sharers 
of  all  His  own  unspeakable  privileges,  and  teach  us  not  even 
to  dread  the  awful  glory  of  reposing  in  that  "  bosom  of  the 
Father,"  where  He  himself  from  all  eternity  has  dwelt. 

But  of  all  these  ways  and  titles  of  Sonship,  doubtless  the 
most  wondrous  is  that  which  made  Christ  at  once  the  Son 
of  God  and  the  Son  of  Man ;  the  Sonship  of  this  great  fes- 
tival. The  eternal  generation  of  the  Word  of  God  is  too 
wholly  beyond  our  comprehension  to  be  matter' of  real 
amazement.  It  is  a  fact  in  a  sphere  of  being  that  utterly 
overpasses  our  conjectures.  All  colors  are  alike  to  the 
blind,  and  all  suppositions  as  to  the  substantial  nature  and 
essence  of  God  are,  apart  from  revelation,  equally  possible 
or  impossible  to  us.  On  the  other  hand,  the  resurrection, 
marvellous  as  it  is,  is  easily  conceivable  when  once  the 
deity  of  Him  who  rose  is  granted.  But  the  Incarnation 
of  God,  the  conjunction  of  divine  and  human,  is  just  suffi- 
ciently within  our  capacity  (for  we  do  know  one  member 

4* 


42  The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation,     [seem.  ii. 

of  the  connection)  to  let  us  feel  how  infinitely  it  also  tran- 
scends it.  It  is  tlie  ni3^stery  of  mysteries,  the  wonder  of 
heaven  and  earth,  each  alike  astonished  at  the  union  of 
both,  the  one  everlasting  miracle  of  divine  power  and  love. 

In  such  a  subject  as  this,  what  can  one  say  Avhich  is  not 
unworthy  of  it  ?  It  were  vain  to  try  amplification  or  orna- 
ment of  such  things  as  these.  This  matter  is  far  vaster 
than  our  vastest  conception,  infinitely  grander  than  our 
loftiest ;  yet  overpoAveringly  awful  as  it  is,  how  familiarity 
still  reconciles  us  to  hearing  of  it  without  awe !  Perhaps 
even  the  overpowering  greatness  of  the  subject  makes  us 
despair  of  conceiving  it  at  all.  All  the  wonders  of  God 
fall  deadly  on  unfitted  minds.  And  thus  men  learn  list- 
lessly to  hear  words  without  even  an  effort  to  attach  ideas 
to  them ;  and  this  is  not  least  the  case  with  those  wbo  dis- 
pute the  most  bitterly  about  the  lifeless  words  themselves. 
In  such  a  case,  all  that  can  be  done  is  to  endeavor  to  de- 
vise some  mode  of  meeting  this  miserable  influence  of 
habit,  by  forcing  the  mind  to  make  some  faint  effort  to 
realize  the  infinite  magnificence  of  the  subject.  Let  us 
endeavor,  then,  to  approach  it  thus. 

You  are  wandering  (I  will  suppose)  in  some  of  the 
wretched  retreats  of  poverty,  upon  some  mission  of  busi- 
ness or  charity.  Perplexed  and  wearied  amid  its  varieties 
of  misery,  you  chance  to  come  upon  an  individual  whose 
conversation  and  mien  attract  and  surprise  you.  Your 
attention  enkindled  by  the  gracious  benevolence  of  the 
stranger's  manner,  you  inquire,  and  the  astounding  fact 
reveals  itself,  that  in  this  lone  and  miserable  scene  you 
have  by  some  strange  conjuncture,  met  with  one  of  the 
great  lights  of  the  age,  one  belonging  to  a  different  and 
distant  sphere,  one  of  the  leaders  of  universal  opinion,  on 
whom  your  thoughts  had  long  been  busied,  and  whom  you 
had  for  years  desired  to  see.  The  singular  accident  of  an 
interview  so  unexpected  fills  and  agitates  your  mind.  You 
form  a  thousand  theories  as  to  what  strange  cause  could 


SERM.  II.]     The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation.  43 

liavc  brought  him  there.  You  recall  how  he  spoke  and 
looked;  you  call  it  an  epoch  in  your  life  to  have  witnessed 
so  startling  an  occurrence,  to  have  beheld  one  so  distin- 
guished in  a  scene  so  much  out  of  all  possibility  of  antici- 
pation. And  this,  even  though  he  were  in  nowise  appa- 
rentl}^  connected  with  it  except  as  witnessing  and  compas- 
sionating its  groups  of  misery. 

Yet  again,  something  more  wonderful  than  this  is  easily 
conceivable.  Upon  the  same  stage  of  wretchedness  a 
loftier  personage  may  be  imagined.  In  the  wild  revo- 
lutions of  fortune  even  monarchs  have  been  wanderers. 
Suppose  this,  then — improbable  indeed,  but  not  impossible 
surely.  And  then  what  feelings  of  respectful  pity,  of  deep 
and  earnest  interest,  would  thrill  your  frame,  as  you  con- 
templated such  a  one  cast  down  from  all  that  earth  can 
minister  of  luxury  and  power,  from  the  head  of  councils 
and  of  armies,  to  seek  a  home  with  the  homeless,  to  share 
the  bread  of  destitution,  and  feed  on  the  charity  of  the 
scornful.  How  the  depths  of  human  nature  are  stirred  by 
such  events !  how  they  find  an  echo  in  the  recesses  of  our 
hearts,  these  terrible  espousals  of  majesty  and  misery. 

But  this  will  not  suffice.  There  are  beings  within  the 
mind's  easy  conception,  that  far  overpass  the  glories  of  the 
statesman  and  the  monarch  of  our  earth.  Men  of  even  no 
extreme  ardor  of  fancy,  when  once  instructed  as  to  the 
vastness  of  our  universe,  have  yearned  to  know  of  the  life 
ond  intelligence  that  animate  and  that  guide  those  distant 
regions  of  creation  which  science  has  so  abundantly  and  so 
wonderfully  revealed ;  and  have  dared  to  dream  of  the 
communications  that  might  subsist — and  that  may  yet  in 
another  state  of  existence  subsist — with  the  beings  of  such 
spheres.  Conceive,  then,  no  longer  the  mighty  of  our 
Avorld  in  this  strange  union  with  misery  and  degradation, 
but  the  presiding  spirit  of  one  of  these  orbs ;  or  multiply 
his  power,  and  make  him  the  deputed  governor,  the  vice- 
gerent angel,  of  a  million  of  those  orbs  that  are  spread  in 


44  The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation.     [SERM.  ii. 

tlieir  myriads  through  infinity.  Think  ^Yhat  it  would  be 
to  be  permitted  to  hold  high  converse  with  such  a  dele- 
gate of  heaven  as  this ;  to  find  this  lord  of  a  million  worlds 
the  actual  inhabitant  of  our  own ;  to  see  him  and  yet  live ; 
to  learn  the  secrets  of  his  immense  administration,  and 
hear  of  forms  of  being  of  which  men  can  now  have  no  more 
conception  than  the  insect  living  on  a  leaf  has  of  the  forest 
that  surrounds  him.  Still  more,  to  find  in  this  being  an 
interest,  a  real  interest  in  the  affairs  of  our  little  corner  of 
the  universe;  of  that  earthly  cell  which  in  point  of  fact  is 
absolutely  invisible  from  the  nearest  fixed  star  that  spar- 
kles in  the  heavens  above  us.  Nay,  to  find  him  willing  to 
throw  aside  his  glorious  toils  of  empire,  in  order  to  meditate 
our  welfare,  and  dwell  among  us  for  a  time.  This  surely 
would  be  wondrous,  appalling,  and  yet  transporting ;  such 
as  that,  when  it  had  passed  away,  life  would  seem  to  have 
nothing  more  it  could  offer  compared  to  the  being  blessed 
with  such  an  intercourse. 

And  now  mark, — behind  all  the  visible  scenery  of  nature; 
beyond  all  the  systems  of  all  the  stars;  around  this  whole 
universe,  and  through  the  infinity  of  infinite  space  itself; 
from  all  eternitj^  and  to  all  eternity ;  there  lives  a  Being, 
compared  to  whom  that  mighty  spirit  just  described,  with 
his  empire  of  a  million  suns,  is  infinitely  less  than  to  you 
is  the  minutest  mote  that  floats  in  the  sunbeam. 

There  is  a  Being  in  whose  breath  lives  the  whole  im- 
mense of  worlds,  who  with  the  faintest  wish  could  blot  them 
all  from  existence,  and  who,  after  they  had  all  vanished 
away  like  a  dream,  would  remain,  filling  the  whole  tre- 
mendous solitude  they  left,  as  unimpaired  in  all  the  fulness 
of  His  might,  as  when  He  first  scattered  them  around  Ilim 
to  be  the  flaming  beacons  of  His  glory.  With  Him,  co-in- 
finite with  immensity,  coeval  with  eternity,  the  universe  is 
a  span,  its  duration  a  moment.  Hear  His  voice  attesting 
His  own  eternal  sovereignty:  "Heaven  and  earth  shall 
pass  away,  but  my  word  shall  not  pass  away."     But  who  is 


SERM.  II.]     llie  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation.  45 

He  that  thus  builds  the  throne  of  His  glory  upon  the  ruins 
of  earth  and  heaven;  who  is  He  that  thus  triumphs  over  a 
perishing  universe,  Himself  alone  eternal  and  impassible? 
The  child  of  a  Jewish  woman,  brethren ;  He  who,  as  on  this 
day,  was  laid  in  a  manger,  because  there  was  no  room  for 
him  in  the  inn  at  Bethlehem ! 

Such  is  the  Incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God ;  such  is  the 
event  that  astounds  the  angels  who  have  no  part  in  it;  while 
men,  its  subjects,  can  hear  it  with  less  interest  than  the 
fable  of  a  romance.  And  consider  that  in  all  our  previous 
suppositions  there  was  but  outward  humiliation,  a  contact 
with  degradation  which  still  left  the  internal  nature  unal- 
tered. But  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  blended  our 
nature  with  His  own;  He  took  the  manhood  into  God.  He 
bound  ns  up  with  Himself  as  one  invisible  being;  He  shared 
not  only  our  state,  but  our  nature  and  essence ;  He  took 
from  us  a  human  nature  that  He  might  give  us  a  divine. 
And  remember  further,  that  this  mystery  of  the  God  and 
Man  is  a  mystery  for  everlasting.  As  there  ever  has 
been,  and  ever  will  be,  the  eternal  Son  of  God,  so  will 
there  ever  remain  the  eternal  Son  of  Man.  This  blessed 
union  is  incapable  of  dissolution;  our  immortality  is  sus- 
pended on  its  continuance;  we  could  not  have  life  eternal 
unless  God  were  to  be  man  eternal.  The  first  fruits  will  re- 
main with  the  rest  of  the  harvest  in  glory.  Yes:  for  ever- 
more shall  the  ransomed  of  Zion  behold  their  own  bright 
model  in  heaven,  and  grow  more  divine  as  they  behold. 
He  will  still,  as  man  and  God,  be  the  link  that  connects 
them  with  the  Father;  this  poor  humanity  for  which  He 
suffered  so  bitterly  He  loves  too  deeply  to  part  with  it.  It 
is  said  that  mothers  love  with  most  tenderness  the  child  for 
whom  they  have  suffered  most;  the  agonies  of  the  Eternal 
endured  in  our  behalf  have  attached  Him  for  ever  to  our 
world  and  our  nature.  That  nature  He  retains  for  ever. 
From  it,  quickened  by  the  divinity,  proceed  mysterious 
influences  (those  which  He  calls  the  gift  of  His  body  and 


4:6  The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation.     [SERM.  ii. 

Blood)  to  His  militant  Cliurch  below;  with  it  He  pleads 
before  the  Father,  when  through  the  Cross  He  would  gain 
forgiveness  for  your  repented  sins  and  infirmities ;  in  it  He 
will  rule  for  ever,  dispensing  the  terms  of  His  judgment 
and  treasures  of  His  love. 

But  this  is  a  day  upon,  which  too  much  remains  to  be 
done,  and  that  the  most  blessed  portion  of  our  Christian 
service,  for  me  to  detain  you  unduly.  The  Lord  Himself, 
I  trust,  will  be  spiritually  with  you  just  now  in  those  holy 
mysteries  which  He  has  committed  to  His  servants  to  dis- 
pense to  His  children;  and  by  which,  as  the  Church  in- 
structs you  in  her  exhortation,  "  eating  the  flesh  of  Christ 
and  drinking  His  blood,  you  dwell  in  Christ  and  Christ  in 
you,  you  are  one  with  Christ  and  Christ  with  you."  But 
to  such  a  service,  springing  as  it  does  essentially  out  of  the 
incarnation  of  the  Lord  (for  none  could  "eat  His  flesh  and 
drink  His  blood,"  till  He  had  taken  upon  Him  flesh  and 
blood, — to  such  a  service  it  is  most  appropriate  to  ask  you, 
ere  you  join  in  it.  How  feel  you  towards  this  great  funda- 
mental truth,  that  Christ  has  become  a  man  and  a  Saviour? 
Do  you  habitually  realize  the  fact  that  your  nature  occupies 
this  awful  position  of  being  borne  by  the  eternal  Son  of 
God  ?  that  your  human  nature  is  the  vesture  in  which  this 
everlasting  Priest  is  attired,  the  regal  robe  of  this  Almighty 
King  ?  How  shall  men  dare  to  sully  a  nature  thus  dignified, 
or  make  their  own  bodies  unworthy  to  share  in  the  flesh 
and  blood  of  Christ?  If  He  has  thought  your  nature 
worthy  of  heaven,  will  you  wilfully  degrade  it  to  hell?  If 
He  has  carried  it  through  all  the  courts  on  high,  amid  the 
wonder  of  angels,  will  you  make  it  the  habitation  of  unclean 
spirits, — of  pride,  impurity,  envy,  sloth  ?  Oh,  it  is  a  mighty 
honor,  but  it  is  a  terrible  responsibility  too,  to  have  a 
brother  who  is  the  eternal  Son  of  God !  Oh,  it  is  a  fearful 
thing  to  think  that  we  can  never  more  disgrace  our  own 
nature  without  also  disgracing  His ! — that  every  sin  against 
ourselves  is  now  an  insult  to  Him  who  has  identified  Him- 


SERM.  II.]     The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation.  47 

self  with,  us  !  When  He,  who  would  not  take  on  Him  the 
nature  of  angels,  has  taken  into  Himself  our  manhood  as 
the  pledge  and  earnest  of  its  total  purification,  how  terrible 
becomes  the  guilt  of  wilfully  counterworking  His  merciful 
condescension,  by  debasing  what  He  has  designed  to  honor! 
Devils  themselves  are  unable  to  reach  this  guilt,  for  they 
have  never  had  an  incarnate  Redeemer;  the  Son  of  God  has 
never  been  a  Christ  for  them ! 

What  feelings,  too,  are  those  which  you  bring  to  this 
anniversary  of  all  these  wonders;  to  the  day  and  season 
which  alone  of  all  our  festivals,  is  named  from  Christ  Him- 
self? This  is  ordinarily  held  to  be  a  season  for  feasting 
and  for  joy;  and  there  is  a  sense  and  degree  in  which  it 
may  well  be  such.  In  even  a  merely  temporal  view,  there 
are  feelings  which  no  wise  adviser  would  teach  men  wholly 
to  suppress,  that  gather  round  this  period;  that  are  too 
closely  connected  with  many  of  the  best  and  most  valuable 
qualities  of  man  to  be  rudely  censured.  The  reunion  of 
families  and  friends,  the  renewal  of  old  domestic  ties,  the 
very  recollections  of  former  anniversaries,  fraught  as  they 
are  with  warnings, — even  the  preservation  of  ancient  cus- 
toms,— a  matter  of  more  importance  than  might  at  first 
sight  appear,  in  an  age  like  this,  and  connected  with  a  tem- 
per which  no  Anglican  Churchman  can  ever  underrate, — 
all  these  are  things  which  have  their  value,  and  which 
(considered  in  themselves)  religion  would  mistake  its  office 
in  undertaking  indiscriminately  to  oppose.  But  remember 
that  nearly  all  this  men  might  have  felt  even  in  that  heathen 
festival  which  is  said  to  have  preceded  our  Christian  feast 
at  this  period  of  the  year.  There  is  a  higher  joy  which 
befits  the  time  as  a  Christian  anniversary;  a  joy  which 
springs  from  higher  sources,  and  is  maintained  by  higher 
prospects.  To  those  who  partially  live  in  eternity  Christ- 
mas is  indeed  a  time  of  solemn  rejoicing ;  a  happy  memo- 
rial to  their  thoughts  of  the  great  work  of  divine  love ;  a 
remembrancer  to  faith  and  hope;  and, — why  should  we 


48  The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation,     [seem.  ii. 

fear  to  say  it  ? — to  many  sucli  no  unpleasing  token,  in  tlie 
close  of  yet  another  year,  of  the  rapid  passing  away  of  that 
period  which  still  separates  the  suffering  disciple  from  his 
glorified  Lord.  And  hence,  to  the  possessors  of  such  spiri- 
tual consolations,  the  time  is  a  time  of  humiliation  too ;  the 
Christian,  among  all  his  comforts,  cannot  forget  where  his 
Lord  was  born,  and  to  what  life.  The  highest  forms  of 
Christian  joy  are  ever  inexpressibly  mingled  with  humili- 
ation; it  is  still,  to  the  last,  the  joy  of  the  Cross.  Alas!  as 
if  to  impress  this  lesson,  the  Church  has  followed  the  com- 
memoration of  the  birth  of  our  Lord  with  that  of  the  death 
of  His  first  martyr.  Those  are  no  right  feelings  of  joy 
which  can  lead  you,  in  the  exulting  sense  of  the  riches  of 
grace  which  are  celebrated  in  the  festival  of  the  Incarnation, 
to  forget  the  sorrows  to  which  the  Holy  One  of  Grod  became 
incarnate.  And  as  one  of  the  best  and  simplest  particular 
lessons  of  the  time, — even  as  Christ  has  for  our  sakes  be- 
come poor,  so  for  His  should  the  poor  be  remembered. 
This  is  a  time  to  remember  the  wants  that  surround  you : 
to  give  liberally  in  imitation  of  Him  who  gave  all.  The 
Gospel  of  Christ  sanctifies  what  custom  has  long  sanctioned; 
that  the  poor  in  Christ  have  special  claims  at  whatever 
period  the  humiliation  of  their  Lord  is  remembered.  In 
them  He  is  present,  and,  as  it  were,  in  emblem  still  incar- 
nate. He  leaves  them  in  the  world  to  exercise  your  faith 
and  love.  When  just  now,  in  the  mystic  symbols.  He  shall 
bestow  upon  you  who  have  faith  to  receive  it  the  spiritual 
gift  of  his  body  and  blood,  giving  back  to  you  with  new 
and  quickening  efi&cacy  what  He  took  originally  from  your 
nature, — remember  this;  feel  for  others  as  He  felt  for  you; 
practise  the  lovely  lesson  He  taught;  and  though  all  you 
can  do  have  no  intrinsic  merit  to  purchase  heaven,  though 
it  be  only  through  that  body  now  incorporated  into  the 
person  of  Christ,  and  in  Him  meritorious,  jow.  can  be  any- 
Avise  acceptable  to  God, — yet  through  Him  your  Christmas 


SERM.  II.]     The  Mystery  of  the  Holy  Incarnation,  49 

gifts  of  mercy  to  the  poor  will  find  favor  with  His  Father. 
God  will  rejoice  to  see  in  you  the  faint  but  faithful  copies 
of  His  Son.  He  will  recompense  you  in  that  hour  when  a 
cup  of  cold  water,  given  in  the  name  of  Christ,  shall  not  be 
forgotten,  or  lose  its  eternal  reward. 


SERMON  III. 

THE  DAILY  SELF-DENIAL  OF  CHRIST. 

(A  Lenten  Sermon.) 

If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him  deny  himself,  and  take  up  his  cross, 
and  follow  me. — Matthew  xvi.  24. 

"This,"  brethren,  "is  an  hard  saying;  who  can  hear 
it?"  You  observe  in  what  terms  the  Captain  of  our  Sal- 
vation lays  down  the  laws  of  His  service ;  how,  having  been 
Himself  a  man  of  sorrows,  He  would  attire  His  Church  and 
people  in  the  same  uniform  of  woe.  "Hereunto  are  ye 
called,"  declares  the  same  Peter  who,  on  this  occasion, 
when  our  text  was  spoken,  would  have  saved  Christ  from 
being  the  model,  as  he  afterwards,  for  a  while,  strove  to 
save  himself  from  being  the  copyist  of  shame  and  suffer- 
ing; "Hereunto  are  ye  called,  because  Christ  also  suffered 
for  us,  leaving  us  an  example  that  we  should  follow  His 
steps."  In  truth  it  is  an  "  hard  saying,"  but  in  a  different 
sense  from  that  mysterious  saying  to  which  Christ's  hearers 
first  applied  the  expression.  The  discourse  at  Capernaum 
was  "  hard"  to  the  natural  reason ;  this  is  hard  to  the  natu- 
ral temper  and  disposition.  But  so  far  from  opposing  the 
calm  verdict  of  unprejudiced  reason,  it  will,  I  believe,  the 
more  we  reflect,  be  found  the  more  perfectly  to  correspond 
to  everything  we  can  collect  from  the  notices  of  reason, 
and  the  information  of  experience.  The  doctrine,  I  say, 
that  man  must  ordinarily  be  made  perfect  through  suffer- 


SERM.  III.J        The  Daily  Self-Denial  of  Christ.  51 

ing;  tliat  affliction,  in  a,  greater  or  less  measure  of  it,  is — 
particular  instances  of  exception  apart — tlie  great  earthly 
instrument  in  the  hand  of  God  for  bringing  the  spirits  of 
men  into  subjection  to  the  Father  of  spirits  ;  that  a  course 
of  uninterrupted  prosperity  is,  in  its  very  nature,  adverse 
to  the  inward  principle  of  religion,  and,  therefore,  requires 
to  be  tempered  by  extraordinary  prudence  and  secret  self- 
denial  ;  this  1  conceive,  to  be  not  only  the  universal  voice 
of  Scripture,  but  clearly  demonstrable  to  every  one  who 
will  patiently  attend  to  the  lessons  of  common  experience, 
and  the  workings  of  his  own  heart  within  him. 

When,  however,  we  speak  thus  of  affliction,  and  suffer- 
ing, and  self-denial,  as  requisite  to  the  formation  of  the 
Christian  character,  it  is  right,  in  order  to  prevent  doubts 
and  misconstructions,  to  say  that  the  terms  are  employed 
in  a  wide  sense.  I  do  not  mean  to  assert,  that  direct  per- 
secution is  essential  to  holiness;  the  saints  can  be  bred 
only  in  sight  of  the  dungeon  and  the  stake;  or  even  that 
overwhelming  earthly  reverses  are  necessary  to  form  the 
man  of  God.  The  thing  required  is  self  denial^  and  it  may 
be  exercised  in  many,  — in  all  spheres  of  life.  The  thing 
required  is  not  momentary,  or  the  result  of  anything  mo- 
mentary ;  it  is  a  constant  and  habitual  temper,  and  hence  in 
St  Luke's  record  of  this  discourse,  the  taking  of  the  cross  is 
declared  to  be  "  daily."  The  cross  is  a  large  and  compre- 
hensive word,  but  with  whatever  variety  applied  to  indi- 
viduals, it  cannot  lose  its  essential  nature ;  it  still  carries 
the  nails  that  pierced  the  body,  and  the  shame  that  pene- 
trates the  soul.  Wherever  it  rises  upon  the  page  of  Scrip- 
ture, it  cannot  but  bring  with  it  the  shadow  of  pain  and 
trouble ;  wherever  it  is  planted,  whatever  be  the  celestial 
consolations,  surely  the  daily  world  can  no  longer  be  the 
pleasant  land  it  was  of  old.  Wherever  it  is  erected,  surely 
as  at  first  there  will  be  "  darkness  over  all  the  earih^''  even 
though  that  darkness  may  make  the  stars  of  heaven  shine 
more  brightly.     The  thing  imported  in  this  daily  cross  is 


52  The  Daily  8elf-Benial  of  Christ.        [SERM.  III. 

self-denial^  and  with  self-denial  the  "aneasy  murmurs  of  the 
self  that  is  denied,  with  self-denial  more  or  less  of  pain ; — 
of  pain  that  has  many  alleviations,  trouble  that  may  gradu- 
ally decrease  as  patience  grows  to  the  consummation  of  her 
"  perfect  work,"  and  the  stamp  of  God  is  deeper  impressed 
upon  the  soul,  but  that  in  few  cases  can  ever  be  expected 
wholly  to  cease,  and  that  no  earnest  pilgrim  of  Zion  should 
ever  wish  to  wholly  cease.  Think  of  all  the  fettered  but 
impatient  vices,  the  tolerated  imperfections,  the  residues  of 
old  follies,  the  rash  impulses  of  even  the  better  nature,  the 
self-deceits,  the  masked  and  plausible  weaknesses — benevo- 
lence becoming  lethargic  under  the  name  of  retirement,  or 
ambitious  under  the  title  of  zeal — the  self-excusings,  the 
concealed  reluctancies,  that  beset  even  the  holiest  among 
us ;  and  you  will  incline  to  pronounce  that,  where  life  is 
but  too  short  for  discipline,  we  ought  not  to  covet  too 
much  repose  before  the  grave.  Circumstantially  the  cross 
may  vary,  but  its  purpose  is  the  same  in  all ;  and  that  pur- 
pose our  Lord  has  here,  with  great  precision,  assigned. 
When  the  Apostles  had  to  exhort  and  console,  they  spoke 
of  direct  and  pressing  persecution  as  the  characteristic  of  the 
cross  which  they  had  themselves  to  sustain,  and  to  induce 
others  to  sustain.  Christ,  with  (as  became  Him)  a  master 
grasp  of  all  the  coming  ages  of  the  Church,  went  back 
upon  the  universal  principle,  and  spoke  of  self  denial^ — • 
self-denial  that  applies  with  equal  force  to  every  age,  rank, 
and  position  of  human  life. 

Thus,  to  take  the  ordinary  state  of  Christians, — which 
always  must  be  the  most  important  practical  one, — the  law 
of  life  here  intended  will  be  chiefly  evidenced  in  such 
characteristics  as  these  (always  reserving  a  readiness  for  any 
of  the  more  searching  trials  of  Christian  firmness,  which 
few  can  expect  to  be  very  long  without,  in  some  form,  ex- 
periencing) ;  a  subdued,  strict,  and  patient  temper,  the  pro- 
duce, or  the  progressive  growth  of  the  "  overcoming" 
power  of  faith,  realizing  the  invisible,  and  filled  with  the 


SERM.  III.]       The  Daily  Self -Denial  of  GhrisL  53 

awe  of  a  present  God  ;  a  constant  and  zealous  watchfulness 
over  the  peculiar  occasions  of  temptation  belonging  to 
one's  station ;  an  avoidance  of  all  exaggerated  excitements, 
as  being,  however  seductive,  wholly  unsuited  to  the  healthy 
state  of  the  Christian  mind,  which  is  eminently  "  sober :" 
in  short,  that  tenderness  of  conscience  and  habitual  hum- 
bleness of  spirit,  which  seems  so  touchingly  expressed  by 
the  Hebrew  idiom  of  "  walking  softly."  It  is  thus,  per- 
haps, that  one  would  describe  the  spirit  of  Gospel  self- 
denial  in  the  average  condition  of  human  life.  In  pros- 
perity and  adversity,  new  characters  of  the  same  spirit 
emerge.  The  resolute  servant  of  Christ  is  marked,  in 
great  worldly  'prosiperiiy^  by  a  deliberate  refusal  of  high 
earthly  enjoyments;  by  a  constant  consciousness  of  that 
exceeding  peril  of  his  position,  of  which  his  Master  has 
spoken  so  awfully  (Matt.  xix.  24) ;  by  a  purposed  counter- 
action of  the  cruel  kindness  of  fortune  in  large  charities 
and  earnest  internal  mortification.  In  extreme  adversity^ 
it  is  given  to  such  an  one  to  welcome  it  as  the  appointed 
instrument  of  discipline, — "the  schoolmaster  to  bring  him 
to  Christ ;"  to  measure  love  by  chastisement,  and  see  the 
deepest  tenderness  in  the  severest  trial ;  to  find,  in  the  cross 
itself,  a  sad  unearthly  joy;  and  in  praying,  "thy  will  be 
done  in  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven,"  to  make  earth,  by  the 
power  of  such  resignation,  in  some  degree  the  heaven  that 
he  prays  it  may  imitate  ! 

There  is  one  case  which  I  think  of  importance  enough 
to  be  specially  mentioned,  as  an  exception  to  the  Chris- 
tian's avoidance  of  all  unusual  degrees  of  excitement ;  it  is 
that  in  which  some  perilous  temptation  has  required  to  be 
met, — as  it  ever  ought,  if  possible, — by  a  sudden  change  of 
scene  and  state.  In  this  case,  it  may  be  a  point  of  Chris- 
tian prudence  tt>  introduce  occupations  somewhat  more 
stimulant  than  the  usual  average, — in  the  first  place,  to 
engage  the  imagination^  which  too  often  perpetuates  old 
temptations  on  a  new  scene,  and  in  a  form  even  more  peril- 


54  The  Daily  Self-Denial  of  Chnst        [SERM.  III. 

ously  attractive;  in  the  next  place,  to  prevent,  after  the 
sadden  vacuum  of  engrossing  thoughts,  the  dangerous  col- 
lapse  of  melancholy  and  despair.  This  is  exactly  analogous 
to  the  use  of  stimulants  in  medicine,  and  is,  like  that,  an 
exception  to  the  general  course  of  regimen,  always  pre- 
supposing a  disordered  state  of  the  spiritual  patient.  The 
few  who  have  wisdom  and  firmness  enough  to  prosecute 
through  life  the  great  work  of  self-improvement  will  value 
hints  of  this  kind,  which  indeed  are  disregarded  only  be- 
cause we  live  from  day  to  day.  as  it  were,  by  chance ;  and 
forget  that  human  life  itself  is  as  much  an  Art,  governed 
by  its  own  rules  and  precepts  of  perfection,  as  the  most 
complicated  profession  by  which  that  life  is  maintained  or 
adorned. 

But  we  must  consider  more  specially  the  substance  of 
the  passage  before  us.  The  command  it  contains  is  based 
upon  the  great  principle  of  the  imitation  of  Christ;  unlike 
all  other  legislators  (for  who  but  He  could  dare  it?)  His 
life  is  the  Law  of  His  people. 

If  we  would  gain  the  root  of  the  matter,  then,  we  must 
contemplate  suffering  as  manifested  in  Christ  Himself;  and 
in  Him  behold  the  archetype  of  that  sanctified  and  sancti- 
fying sorrow,  of  which  His  mourning  saints  attempt  to 
present  their  scattered  images.  Let  Peter  himself  and  his 
fellow-saints  be  seen  in  their  Master.  If  there  be  healing 
in  these  bitter  waters,  let  us  analyze  them  in  the  freshness 
of  their  fountain ;  from  it  the  streams  derive  every  precious 
quality  they  possess. 

On  this  occasion,  then,  I  shall  speak  of  the  Master;  the 
disciples  are  but  His  likeness.  To-day  we  shall  examine 
the  movements  of  the  Leader  in  this  march  of  the  cross; 
the  followers  may  see  themselves  in  Him.  That  you  may 
not  forget  the  relation  of  the  subject  to  yourselves,  I  have 
briefly  told  you  how  you  are  to  bear  this  banner  of  your 
profession;  but  I  have  told  it  only  briefly,  because  I  would 
for  the  present  engage  you  principally  with  its  relation  to 


SERM.  III.]       The  Daily  Self-Denial  of  Christ.  55 

Christ.  I  speak  then  of  the  daily  self-denial  of  the  Son  of 
God,  which  is  here  set  forth  as  the  model  of  ours,  for  it  is 
only  as  we  understand  the  model  that  we  can  expect  to 
understand  the  copy.  The  subject  may  require  a  little 
attention,  but  none  can  more  abundantly  reward  it. 

The  everlasting  God  of  heaven  and  earth  was  Himself  a 
mourner  I  The  Author  of  light,  life,  and  happiness  has 
Himself  wept  real  tears !  Amazing  fact, — which  familiarity 
alone  can  deprive  of  unspeakable  wonder!  Let  us  endea- 
vor to  escape  the  lulling  effect  of  that  familiarity  by  ap- 
proaching the  subject  from  its  principles,  and  thus  gradu- 
ally gaining  some  conception  of  the  marvellousness  of  its 
nature,  when  first  presented  to  a  mind  properly  prepared 
to  receive  it. 

The  ultimate  facts  of  the  Bible  and  of  the  Keason  (for 
the  Bible  is  but  the  perfection  of  Reason)  are  the  existence 
in  God's  universe  of  Good  and  Evil,  with  Happiness  and 
Misery  as  belonging  respectively  to  each.  Under  these  all- 
grasping  titles  we  may  class  everything ;  but  once  arrived 
at  them  we  can  go  no  further.  We  can  neither  explain 
them  in  the  world,  nor  can  we  explain  them  away  from  it ; 
we  can  neither  unravel  them  nor  remove  them.  There 
they  are,  certain  but  impenetrable ; — "  high  as  heaven ; 
what  canst  thou  do  ?  Deeper  than  hell ;  what  canst  thou 
know  ?"  But  though  we  cannot  tell  all  about  them,  though 
we  cannot  "  pluck  out  the  heart  of  their  mystery,"  yet  by 
the  light  of  Scripture  and  of  Reason,  we  can  gather  a  good 
deal  of  their  mutual  bearings  and  relations.  We  can  see 
that  while  they  are  utter  and  irreconcilable  antagonists, 
they  are,  in  a  marvellous  manner,  connected  and  recipro- 
cally operative,  the  darker  element  of  evil  and  misery  min- 
istering in  a  wondrous  way  to  the  brighter  principle  of 
good ;  a  plain  proof,  I  may  observe,  against  those  Mani- 
chean  notions  of  rival  principles  of  equal  dignity,  once  so 
prevalent  as  an  admitted  heresy,  and  still,  I  fear,  floating 
unacknowledged  in  many  an  embittered  mind,  as  the  prac- 


56  The  Daily  Self- Denial  of  Christ.        [seem.  III. 

tical  creed  of  disappointment  and  impenitence.  The  more 
we  reflect,  tlie  more  clearly  we  come  to  see  that  the  reins 
of  empire  are  really  held  by  a  single  sovereign,  who,  blessed 
be  His  august  name !  is  assuredly  engaged  on  the  side  of 
moral  purity  and  happiness.  But  being  such,  no  doubt  He 
must  hate  and  reject,  from  the  inmost  depths  of  His  ever- 
lasting nature,  that  accursed  principle,  which,  by  the  volun- 
tary agency  of  certain  of  His  rebellious  creatures  (pervert- 
ing the  freedom  of  action  which  was  given  to  make  their 
worship  worthy  of  His  throne),  has  been  so  long  intruded 
upon  His  fair  creation;  He  must  abhor  it  alike  in  itself 
and  in  that  gloomy  retinue  of  misery  which,  by  inevitable 
necessity,  has  entered  with  it,  and  with  it  forever  dwells. 

Yet  what  is  the  great  primary  fact  upon  which  all  the 
essential  peculiarities  of  our  religion  are  founded  ?  That 
God, — this  same  being, — became  strangely,  inconceivably 
connected  with  pain ;  that  this  being,  whose  nature  is  in- 
herent happiness,  by  some  mysterious  process  entered  the 
regions  of  suffering ;  crossed  the  whole  diameter  of  exist- 
ence to  bind  Himself  with  His  own  opposite ;  bore,  though 
incapable  of  moral  pollution,  the  dark  shadow  of  pollution^ 
even  anguish  unspeakable  ;  and  though  unsubdued  by  the 
master.  Sin,  exhibited  Himself,  to  the  wonder  of  the  uni- 
verse, clad  in  the  weeds  of  the  servant.  Death. 

The  main  reason  of  this  extraordinary  fact  is,  as  you  all 
know,  to  be  found  in  the  necessity  of  atonement.  Indeed, 
if  an  atonement  were  necessary,  and  for  that  we  must  trust 
the  express  warrant  of  Scripture,  we  know  not  ivhere  the 
vicarious  victim  was  to  be  sought,  without  insuperable 
objections  on  the  score  of  justice  and  of  goodness,  except 
in  the  offended  Judge  Himself.  Our  atonement  appears  to 
demand,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  a  Person  not  less 
than  divine.  And  thus,  hidden  in  the  depths  of  justice  and 
mercy,  is  found  the  solution  of  this  astonishing  coalition  of 
glory  and  of  woe.  Essential  happiness  thus  embraces  es- 
sential misery,  because  the  God  of  happiness  is  also  the 


SERM.  III.]       The  Daily  SeJf-Denial  of  Christ.  '57 

God  at  once  of  infinite  purity  and  infinite  love.  We  first 
start  aside  at  the  impossibility ;  we  gaze  longer  and  deeper, 
and  the  conviction  slowly  rises  that  it  could  not  be  other- 
wise, and  God  be  what  He  is.  The  sacrifice,  strange  as  it 
is,  is  but  the  natural  growth  of  this  being ;  it  is  but  the 
child  of  eternal  mercy  wedded  to  eternal  truth ;  and  their 
spousal  home  is  in  the  heart  of  God.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
Life  and  Happiness  of  the  universe,  in  its  love  at  once  of 
justice  and  of  us,  comes,  through  the  medium  of  the  infe- 
rior nature,  in  direct  contact  with  misery  and  death.  But 
into  this  part  of  the  subject  I  am  not  now  about  to  enter.  It 
is  not  with  Christ  as  He  is  the  divine  sacrifice  of  His  own 
divine  justice  that  I  am  now  mainly  to  engage  you.  I 
bring  before  you  this  divine  person  visiting  the  regions  of 
pain  in  such  a  sense  as  to  be  our  example  ;  for  so  the  text 
presents  Him.  I  exhibit  Him,  as  it  does,  sufifering  as  He 
would  have  us  suffer ;  suffering,  therefore,  that  He  may 
accomplish  a  refining  and  exalting  change  upon  Himself; 
not  then  upon  Himself  simply  as  God,  for  as  such  change 
and  exaltation  are  alike  impossible,  but  upon  Himself  as 
man,  and,  therefore,  susceptible  of  all  the  improvement 
which  the  original  principles  of  that  part  of  the  creation 
will  allow.  It  is  of  the  fiery  trial  I  would  speak,  through 
which  He  bore  our  nature,  till  He  had,  Himself  the  suf- 
ferer, made  it  fit  to  be  the  shrine  of  a  God,  the  temple  in 
which  He  has  chosen  to  dwell  for  everlasting.  Christ  the 
Atoner  we  acknowledge  and  adore ;  but  it  is  before  Christ 
the  Purifier  we  bend  to-day. 

That  this  purifying  purpose  in  the  sufferings  of  Christ 
is  recognized  in  the  scriptural  accounts  of  His  redemption 
of  our  race,  I  suppose  I  need  not  remind  you.  The  "refi- 
ner's fire"  was  itself  refined ;  Himself  He  perfected  to  perfect 
us.  He  is  everywhere  described  as  being  ever  tempted^ 
just  as  we  are,  though  ever  victorious,  as, — alas ! — we  are 
not ;  nor  can  we  doubt  the  disciplinary  character  of  this 
constant   and   painful   struggle,  when   we   are   told   that, 


58  The  Daily  Self -Denial  of  Christ.        [seem.  III. 

"  tliougli  a  Son,  He  learned  obedience  by  the  things  wbicTi 
He  suffered,"  that  He  was  "made  perfect  through  suffer- 
ings," and  by  that  means  "  became  the  author  of  eternal 
salvation  to  all  of  them  that  obey  Him."  Everywhere  His 
trial  is  made  accurately  to  answer  to  (5ur  own  ;  nor  surely 
can  we,  with  any  reason,  doubt  that  its  result  upon  His 
own  humanity  must  have  been  similar  to  that  which  we 
know  the  same  processes  produce,  and  are  intended  to  pro- 
duce, among  ourselves.  We  find  Him  immersed  in  the 
same  difficulties,  supported  by  the  same  faith,  acting  in 
view  of  the  same  reward,  "  in  all  things  made  like  unto  His 
brethren;"  and  we  know  that  His  human  nature  was 
capable  of  the  natural  course  of  advancement,  that  He 
could  "  grow  in  wisdom"  and  in  years,  we  may  well  believe 
that  even  in  Christ  Himself  those  vigils  of  prayer  so  often 
recorded,  those  weary  wanderings,  those  patient  "enduran- 
ces of  contradiction,"  the  agonies  of  the  garden,  the  final 
struggle  of  the  cross,  had  power  to  raise  and  refine  the 
human  element  of  His  being  beyond  the  simple  purity  of 
its  original  innocence;  that,  though  ever  and  equally  "with- 
out sin"  the  dying  Christ  was  something  more  consummate 
still  than  the  Christ  baptized  in  Jordan. 

This  proceeds  upon  the  broad  principle,  that  virtue  tried 
and  triumphant  ranks  above  innocence :  and  this  once 
clearly  apprehended,  you  will  see,  that  if  Christ  was  to 
possess  (as,  surely,  was  on  every  account  fitting)  the  utmost 
perfection  of  our  nature  in  the  humanity  allied  to  His  God- 
head, it  was  necessary  that  He  should  possess  it  in  the  state 
of  victorious  trial.  It  may,  indeed,  be  objected  that  this 
state  of  exaltation  could  have  been  wrought  by  some  sud- 
den and  supernatural  illapse  of  grace.  We  may,  it  is  true, 
conceive  such  a  thing ;  but  only  because  we  may  conceive 
anything  not  positively  self-contradictory.  In  voluntarily 
assuming  the  nature  of  man,  Christ  was  not,  surely,  to 
destroy  all  analogy  between  Himself  and  the  whole  race  of 
man.     In  coming  to  exemplify  holiness,  He  was  not  to 


SERM.  III.]       The  Daily  Self-Denial  of  Christ.  59 

render  all  resemblance  impossible  between  tbe  original  and 
the  copy.  In  becoming  "  the  first-born  among  many 
brethren,"  He  was  not  to  annul  every  real  tie  of  brother- 
hood between  Himself  and  His  family  of  younger  mourners. 
Sin  alone  excepted,  the  Son  of  man  was  still  to  be  one 
with  the  sons  of  men.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  a 
perfection  thus  struck  out  at  a  beat  by  the  instantaneous 
omnipotence  of  miracle,  would  have  formed  a  sort  of  man- 
hood so  utterly  removed  from  our  own,  that  it  would  have 
neutralized  nearly  every  single  discernible  purpose  of  Him 
who,  in  the  fulness  of  an  all-pervading  sympathy  with  man 
as  such,  "  took  not  on  Him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  the 
seed  of  Abraham." 

A  different  form  of  objection  may  perhaps  float  through 
the  minds  of  some  of  my  hearers.  It  may  seem  a  deroga- 
tion to  the  dignity  of  Christ  to  suppose  Him  capable  of 
moral  advancement.  But  you  will  remember  that  all  these 
reasonings  apply  only  to  the  inferior  nature,  to  that  nature 
in  which  every  humiliating  characteristic  (if  this  be,  indeed, 
one)  is  but  a  new  testimony  to  the  boundless  love  that 
brouQjht  its  Creator  to  assume  it.  It  is  no  more  an  im- 
peachment  to  the  dignity  of  Christ  that  as  a  man  He  should 
have  been  capable  of  improvement,  than  that  as  a  man  He 
should  not  be  infinite. 

But  in  what  respects  may  this  constant  struggle  against 
temptation,  this  daily  burden  of  the  cross,  this  deliberate 
assumption  of  poverty  and  pain,  have  contributed  to  exalt 
the  sinless  humanity  of  Christ  to  a  nobler  maturity  of 
perfection  ? 

Now,  when  suffering  is  considered  simply  as  occurring 
in  the  resistance  to  all  urgent  temptation,  or  as  affording 
the  materials  of  a  special  temptation  to  discontent  and  im- 
patience, you  can  at  once  understand  its  utility  as  a  dis- 
cipline of  the  ivill  to  unreserved  obedience.  It  is  thus 
to  us,  it  was  thus  assuredly  to  "  the  man  Christ  Jesus."  In 
this  sense,  as  in  the  more  ordinary  one,  we  may  say  with 


t0  The  Daily  Self-Dmial  of  Christ       [serm.  hi. 

truth  it  was  "  His  meat  and  drink  to  do  His  Father's  will ;" 
because  the  practice  of  doing  His  father's  will  nourished 
and  fortified  His  moral  nature, — that  is,  the  strength  of  His 
holy  resolve, — to  more  consummate  vigor.  And  for  such 
a  purpose  it  might  be  shown  that  suffering  is  naturally 
indispensable ;  insomuch  that  it  is  well  nigh  impossible  to 
conceive  the  human  will  educated  to  high  perfection  with- 
out it.  This  alone,  if  followed  out,  would  exhibit  sufficient 
reason  why  the  Kestorer  of  Man  should  willingly  adopt  the 
position  of  a  harassed  and  af&icted  wanderer ;  why  He,  who 
was  to  carry  to  heaven  a  perfect  humanity,  should  con- 
descend to  derive  its  perfection  through  this  particular 
channel.  This  alone  would  evince  that,  even  had  salvation 
been  possible  without  sacrifice  or  atonement,  yet  "  to  deny 
Himself"  was  requisite  on  the  part  of  the  blessed  represent- 
ative of  our  race,  if  He  came  to  present  the  model  of  its 
highest  excellence,  and  if  that  excellence  consist  in  the 
intensity  of  its  resolve  to  work  the  will  of  God.  It  was 
not  wonderful,  before  the  Christian  Kevelation,  that  men 
should  have  anticipated  nothing  of  all  this ;  but  it  is  very 
wonderful,  with  the  light  which  that  revelation  gives,  and 
is  by  themselves  admitted  to  give,  as  to  the  position  of 
man  and  the  purposes  of  his  Eedeemer,  that  objectors, 
instead  of  murmuring  at  it  as  an  impossibility,  should  not 
see  it  to  be  inherently  necessary  that  the  friend  of  man 
should  be  "  a  man  of  sorrows ;"  that  had  He  entered  the 
world  as  heir  to  the  throne  of  the  Caesars,  or  to  raise 
another  to  rival  it,  His  whole  life,  in  relation  to  its  pro- 
fessed object,  had  been  an  inexplicable  contradiction. 

This  concerns  painful  self-denial  as  connected  with  temp- 
tation ;  and  no  doubt  this  is  its  chief  occasion,  and  the  pur- 
pose I  have  just  stated  its  principal  object.  But  beyond 
this  necessary  exercise  of  difficult  obedience,  the  self-denial 
of  Christ  may  be  regarded  as  embracing  His  entire  prefer- 
ence of  an  afflicted  life.  His  voluntary  assumption  of  sorrow 
as  such.     For  I  entertain  no  doubt,  that  even  apart  from 


SERM.  III.]       The  Daily  Self-Denial  of  Christ.  61 

the  necessity  of  trial,  the  life  of  humiliation  was  the  life  of 
His  choice.  And  the  same  spirit  breathes  through  the 
whole  of  the  religion  He  founded. 

For  I  suppose  it  may  be  said  with  truth,  that  if  any  man 
were  to  be  asked,  what  it  is  that  characterizes  Christianity 
as  a  practical  system  distinguishably  from  all  that  preceded 
it,  or  from  all  that  have  followed  without  imitating  it,  he 
might  state  it  correctly  enough  in  two  words, — love  and 
sorrow ;  the  blessedness  of  mutual  affection,  and  the  blessed- 
ness of  suffering.  Of  course  I  do  not  forget  that  occasional 
notices,  nay,  elaborate  treatises,  upon  subjects  akin  to  these, 
are  to  be  found  among  heathen  writers.  I  speak  of  the 
prominence  given  them,  the  peculiar  and  quite  inimitable 
way  in  which  they  are  described  and  enforced,  the  import- 
ance assigned  to  them  in  the  formation  of  character,  the 
proportion  they  bear  to  the  rest  of  the  system,  so  great  that 
I  believe  nearly  two-thirds  of  the  New  Testament,  and  of 
those  parts  of  the  Old  which  predict  and  reflect  tlie  evan- 
gelical spirit,  will  be  found  directly  or  indirectly  concerned 
with  them  both,  whether  considered  separately  or  inter- 
twined in  the  exhortation  to  loving  sympathy  with  the 
affliction  of  others.  In  Christ  Himself,  who  is  His  own 
religion  alive  and  in  action,  they  seem,  like  rainbow  colors, 
evermore  blended  and  lost  in  each  other ;  He  is  the  immor- 
tal image  of  both;  love  and  pain  are  the  footprints  by 
which  we  trace  Him  from  page  to  page.  And  who  shall 
say  luhich  was  foremost  on  Calvary  ?  Love  drew  the  god- 
head of  Christ  from  its  throne ;  sorrow, — sanctifying  sor- 
row,— lifted  the  manhood  into  meetness  to  share  it ! 

Must  we  not,  then,  think  that  there  is  something  in  this 
sorrow,  thus  cordially  and  perpetually  chosen  by  our  Mas- 
ter, that  is  eminently  adapted  to  elevate  and  purify  our 
being?  Is  it  not  probable  that,  not  indeed  all  sorrow,  but 
sorrow  borne  with  resignation,  may  liavc  some  more  direct 
effect  than  the  one  we  have  already  noticed,  upon  the  entire 
frame  and  temper  of  the  human  heart?  Must  there  not  be 
6 


62  The  Daily  Self-Denial  of  Christ.        [seem.  hi. 

something  divinely  excellent  in  that  which  was  deliberately 
chosen  by  a  divine  nature  as  its  peculiar  tabernacle,  out  of 
all  the  world  afforded, — the  sad  but  awful  "  cloud  above  the 
mercy-seat"  in  which,  while  among  us,  His  glory  was  to 
dwell? 

This  special  excellence  is  not  hard  to  discover.  Hum- 
bleness OF  SPIRIT,  the  most  pervading  and  universal  of  all 
graces,  is  in  the  Christian  code  the  very  essence  of  perfection; 
and  sorrow  borne  with  resignation  has  a  direct  tendency  to 
produce  it.  Grief,  if  it  can  be  looked  upon  as  inflicted  by 
the  hand  of  God,  forms  a  perpetual  memorial  of  subjection, 
a  daily,  hourly  remembrancer  of  dependency.  Nor,  though 
it  may  fail,  and  too  often  does  fail  to  produce  this  effect,  is 
it  easy  to  conceive  what  could  supply  its  place.  Now  be- 
cause our  Redeemer  knew,  what  it  is  so  hard  to  persuade 
even  his  avowed  followers,  that  in  this  direction  lies  the 
true  perfection  of  man, — that  a  gentle,  unmurmuring  sub- 
missiveness  is  his  truest,  brightest  heroism, — therefore  did 
He,  in  His  own  person,  adopt  the  way  that  leads  to  it.  He 
voluntarily  mourned,  because  mourning  humiliates,  and  He 
would  be  humble;  He  daily  suffered,  because  suffering  sub- 
dues the  pride  of  human  hearts,  and  He  would  teach  us  to 
accomplish  that  conquest.  It  was  the  humiliation  of  a  God 
to  take  our  nature  at  all;  it  was  the  humiliation  of  a  man 
to  crucify  that  nature  daily.  He  knew,  what  sages  had 
failed  to  see,  that  it  was  loftiest  when  lowest;  that  as  it 
sank  in  humbleness  it  rose  in  glory.  And  thus  the  model 
of  all  He  taught.  Himself  "the  first-born  from  the  dead," 
He  soared  to  heaven  with  a  spirit  lowly  as  the  grave  he 
left;  thus  beats  there,  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Majesty  on 
high,  a  human  heart, — the  heart  of  an  enthroned  king, — 
more  softly  subdued  to  mercy,  more  meekly  patient,  than 
ever  sorrowed  among  the  loneliest  solitudes  of  earthly  af- 
fliction! And  thus  the  daily  cross  could  discipline  the  luill, 
the  daily  cross  could  hu7nhle  the  spirit;  these  things  are  the 
real  perfection  of  man,  and  therefore  in  these  garments  of 


SERM.  III.]       The  Daily  Self- Denial  of  Christ.  63 

woe  the  liumanity  of  God  was  voluntaril}^  shrouded.  Such 
considerations  appear  to  offer  some  solution  of  the  fact) 
they  help  us  to  gain  some  conception  of  its  grounds  ;  and 
yet,  when  once  more  from  the  reason  I  turn  to  the  reality, 
from  the  supposed  causes  to  the  recorded  effect, — I  own  it, 
— I  feel  so  astonished,  so  overwhelmed,  that  it  seems  as  if 
we  had  made  no  progress  at  all,  as  if  we  were  far  as  ever 
from  understanding  it,  as  if  it  was  impiety  to  dream  we 
could  measure  our  poor  faculties  with  its  unfathomable 
depth! 

Thus,  brethren,  the  leader  bore  His  daily  cross ;  we  have 
dared  to  imagine  loh^j ;  but  even  though  we  never  could 
conjecture  His  reason,  let  us  delight  to  copy  His  act.  If 
through  the  cross,  not  justifying  alone  but  sanctifying  also, 
we  must  be  cleansed  unto  meetness  for  the  kingdom,  may 
we  welcome  the  cross,  yea,  pray  that  it  may  come,  and  clasp 
it  joyfully  when  it  comes.  If  by  affliction  only  we  can  be 
softened,  boldly  let  us  hope  that  affliction  may  be  ours  ; 
that  "our  way  may  be  hedged  up  with  thorns,"  if  so  we  may 
return ;"  that  we  may  be  "  borne  through  the  fire,"  if  so  we 
may  be  brought  to  "call  upon  His  name,"  and  "say  the 
Lord  is  our  God."  I  said  I  would  speak  only  of  Christ;  you 
see  the  word  was  vain ;  we  cannot  speak  of  Him  and  not 
of  His,  for  they  are  one.  He  chose  the  cross;  have  you  as- 
sumed yours?  Tremble  for  your  own  state  if  you  have  never 
knoAvn  what  it  is  to  bear  it !  What  mockery  of  the  faith  is 
this  which  gives  us  all  of  religion  but  the  trial,  which  ex- 
hibits the  Master  in  hourly  tribulation,  yet  would  have  His 
people  clothed  in  soft  raiment  I  as  if  sanctification  were 
vicarious  as  well  as  atonement,  and  in  bearing  all  our  sins 
He  bore  all  our  sufferings  also !  If  God, — severely  kind, — 
has  not  afflicted  you,  learn  in  some  Avay  to  afflict  your- 
selves. If  prosperous,  tax  your  prosperity  for  the  poorer 
members  of  Christ.  Allay  the  fever  of  fleshly  will  by 
mortification,  of  ambitious  desires  by  purpose  and  resolute 
self-abasement.    Exercise  your  hearts  in  a  loving  sympathy 


64  The  Dally  Self-Denial  of  Christ.       [serm.  hi. 

witli  sorrow  in  every  form  ;  soothe  it,  minister  to  it,  succor 
it,  revere  it.  It  is  a  relic  of  Christ  in  the  world,  an  image 
of  the  great  Sufferer,  a  shadow  of  the  cross.  It  is  a  holy 
and  a  venerable  thing.  Have  ever  before  you  the  house- 
less wanderer  of  Galilee ;  remember  that  God  is  richer  and 
mightier  than  you,  and  yet  that,  when  he  would  take  your 
nature,  it  was  in  poverty,  and  pain,  and  persecution,  He 
chose  it ! 


SEEMON  IV. 

CRUCIFYING  THE  SON  OF  GOD  AFEESH. 

(Preached  on  Good  Fridaj'.) 

They  crucify  to  themselves  the  Son  of  God  afresh. — Heb,  vi.  6. 

Various  as  have  been  God's  dealings  with  the  world, 
brethren,  there  is,  after  all,  a  terrible  impartiality  in  His 
dispensations  to  His  rational  creatures.  Wherever  men 
possess  reason  and  conscience,  they  possess,  in  some  mea- 
sure, the  means  of  pleasing  or  displeasing  Him ;  whenever 
they  can,  in  the  lowest  degree,  conceive  His  law,  they  are 
bound  to  obey  it.  He  can  hear  us  all  in  the  same  court, 
and  judge  us  out  of  the  same  books.  He  can  see  through 
the  intricacies  of  His  own  diversified  government.  He  can 
estimate  every  district  and  age  of  the  world  by  the  stand- 
ards appropriate  to  each.  And  as  He  contemplates  the 
vast  prospect.  Christian  and  Heathen, — as  He  beholds  in 
the  one  division  those  to  whom  Christ  was  hidden,  but  who 
would  perhaps  have  "received  him  gladly,"  in  the  other 
those  to  whom  Christ  was  revealed,  but  who  despised  and 
neglected  the  revelation, — He  doubtless  can  bring  men  to 
a  level,  balancing  their  opportunities  against  their  actions, 
to  a  degree  wholly  unattainable  by  our  weak  and  perplexed 
vision.  The  whole  world  is  under  a  moral  government, 
though  we  alone  are  in  a  written  covenant ;  all  live  to  God, 
though  we  alone  have  professed  "  the  Law  of  the  Spirit  of 
life  in  Christ  Jesus."    The  very  temptations  that  dazzle  the 

6^- 


6Q  Crucifying  the  Son  of  God  afresh.       L^^^^-  ^^' 

"unevangelized  world  are,  in  innumerable  instances,  the 
same  temptations  that  are  trying  ns, — anger,  sensuality, 
ambition,  avarice.  We  are  their  brethren  in  all  things  ex- 
cept in  the  revelation  of  the  divine  mercy  and  the  gift  of 
the  divine  Spirit.  God  grant  that,  in  the  day  of  wrath,  too 
many  of  us,  now  luxuriating  in  our  spiritual  privileges, 
may  not  have  reason  to  wish  that  our  lot  had  been  cast  in 
the  Indians'  unevangelized  wilderness,  that  the  apology  of 
ignorance  had  been  ours,  that  we  never  had  been  cursed 
with  a  knowledge  which  only  eventuated  to  aggravate  our 
condemnation ! 

And  as,  notwithstanding  all  the  vantage  and  prerogative 
of  the  Church  of  Christ,  this  sort  of  secret  equity  is  pre- 
served in  God's  arrangements  of  the  relation  between  His 
Church  and  the  world,  so,  doubtless,  there  is  something  not 
unlike  it  in  His  arrangements  of  the  ages  and  provinces  of 
the  Church  itself.  While  the  human  nature  of  the  Church 
is  uniform,  its  trials  must  be  nearly  so.  As  the  Lord  of 
the  Charch  is  the  same  "-yesterday  and  to-day  and  for  ever," 
so  the  probation  He  enforces  is  distributed  pretty  evenly 
through  all  ages  and  classes.  We  may  be  well  assured 
that  we  endure  little  which  our  forefathers  have  not  en- 
dured, that  we  are  spared  little  which  they  have  suffered. 
If  we  are  not  asked  to  perish  at  the  stake  in  one  terrific 
trial  of  faith  and  fortitude,  we  are  summoned  to  a  life  of 
hourly  self-denial.  If  we  are  not  nailed  to  a  cross  with  one 
Apostle,  we  are^  with  every  disciple  of  Christ,  bound  to 
carry  a  cross  daily.  Temptation  seems  to  expire  in  one  re- 
gion of  the  soul,  but  it  is  to  start  to  fresh  vitality  in  another. 
If  licentiousness  ceases  to  be  the  cherished  vice  of  an  age, 
it  retires  to  make  way  for  hypocrisy.  If  ferocious  revenge 
becomes  discountenanced,  it  is  succeeded  by  thoughtless 
and  efteminate  ease.  The  enemy  of  souls  is  a  master  of  all 
the  resources  of  his  art,  the  arsenal  of  Satan  is  never  empty 
of  weapons.  Yet  in  hind^ — such  are  the  necessary  limits  of 
human  nature, — they  cannot  admit  of  much  diversity ;  the 


SEEM.  I  V.J        Gnicifying  the  Son  of  Qod  afresh.  67 

wonder  is,  after  all,  that  man  can  be  destroyed  on  so  small 
a  stock  of  passions!  In  onr  crimes  we  arc  evermore 
the  copyists  of  ourselves  or  of  others.  The  very  same 
frailty  is  seen  to  manifest  itself  in  many  distinct  forms ; — ■ 
sometimes  in  religions  errors  that,  superficially  different, 
coincide  in  their  sources;  sometimes  (which  is  still  more 
lamentable)  in  those  unhappy  follies  of  Christian  people 
which  make  religion  too  often  present  only  an  ungraceful 
caricature  of  the  world.  And  thus  mankind  reiterate  them- 
selves from  age  to  age,  from  country  to  country ;  the  heart 
goes  through  the  same  narrow  circle  of  follies  in  a  thousand 
spheres ;  each  generation  is  the  poor  echo  of  its  predecessor. 
Alas !  the  dear-bought  experience  of  the  Church  of  Christ 
has  not  brought  its  members  wisdom ;  the  story  of  trial  and 
victory  written  in  the  blood  of  martyrs  has  not  taught  us 
prudence.  "With  whole  libraries  of  records  that  tell  us  how 
the  chosen  few  among  our  fathers  fought  and  won  the  hea- 
venly conflict,  we  begin  as  infants, — inexperienced,  feeble, 
irresolute, — the  easy  prey  of  every  commonplace  illusion, 
vanquished  by  the  novelty  of  seductions  which  were  old  in 
the  days  of  Peter,  and  John,  and  Paul. 

Thus  temptations  may  vary  outwardly;  but  while  the 
human  nature  on  which  they  operate  remains  unchanged, 
they  must  be  found  in  substance  much  the  same.  But  of 
all  the  equalizations  of  evil  in  successive  ages,  of  all  the 
repetitions  of  trial  from  generation  to  generation,  of  all 
the  instances  evincing  that,  in  the  Church  as  in  the  world, 
"the  thing  that  has  been  will  be," — unquestionably  that 
expressed  in  the  text  is  the  most  startling  and  fearful. 
The  Crucifixion  of  Christ,  in  its  literal  reality,  stands 
alone  in  the  history  of  man.  It  was  the  last  and  darkest 
depth  of  human  criminality.  The  original  fall,  and  the 
rejection  of  the  Redeemer,  are  the  two  saddest  pages  in  the 
story  of  our  race.  But  mournful  as  is  the  former,  it  has 
never,  probably,  left  the  impression  upon  the  heart  which 
is  at  once  produced   by  all   those  dread  accompaniments 


68  Cnicifijing  the  Son  of  Ood  afresh.       [seem.  IV. 

that  prepared  and  embittered  tlie  last  sufferings  of  the 
meek  and  merciful  friend  of  man.  He  had  been  only 
known  as  the  dispenser  of  unpurchasable  blessings,  as  a  man 
patient  of  suffering  beyond  the  experience  of  living  men, 
prompt  to  sacrifice  every  guiltless  comfort  to  the  slightest 
wish  of  those  around  Him,  rejoicing  with  every  innocent 
joy,  and  weeping  with  all  who  wept.  His  unbounded 
powers  had  ever  been  at  the  service  of  humble  affliction.  No 
one  had  ever  dared  to  breathe  calumny  against  the  profound 
purity  of  His  life.  None  like  Him  had  ever  united  abhor- 
rence of  the  sin  with  love  and  pardon  for  the  returning 
sinner.  In  claiming  to  be  the  Messiah  of  prophecy  He 
disturbed  no  temporal  throne;  in  claiming  to  be  the  Mes- 
siah of  the  heart  He  but  asked,  one  would  think,  what  no 
generous  spirit  could  refuse.  Such  a  Being  as  this  was 
among  us  to  die  a  death  of  violence ;  men  framed  like  you 
and  me  destroyed  Him.  As  if  to  mark  the  event  as  the 
uttermost  point  of  human  crime.  Providence  seems  to  have 
permitted  it  to  gather  to  itself  a  tribute  from  almost  every 
evil  passion  of  our  miserable  nature.  Designed  to  atone 
for  all  guilt,  almost  all  guilt  was  called  out  to  accomplish 
it.  Injustice,  cruelty,  false  shame,  unworthy  indolence, 
covetousness,  ambition,  hypocrisy,  envy, — all  were  in  differ- 
ent ways  exhibited  in  this  tremendous  tragedy ;  all  contri- 
buted in  different  ways  to  fix  the  catastrophe.  No,  never, 
surely,  is  man,  in  all  the  possibilities  of  futurity,  destined 
again  to  consummate  a  wickedness  like  this.  It  must  be 
forever  solitary  in  the  world,  an  event  placed  beyond 
anticipation,  repetition,  or  parallel;  a  lonely  and  terrible 
monument  of  unapproachable  guilt. 

Not  thus,  however,  speaks  the  voice  of  inspiration. 
Heaven  has  not  spared  us  this  trial.  When  Christ  Avas 
about  to  die  He  instituted  a  memorial  sacrament  of  His 
passion,  to  show  forth  His  death  until  He  come.  It  would 
seem  that  there  is,  as  it  were,  a  fearful  and  Satanic  sacra- 
ment too,  of  that  same  dread  hour,  by  wliich  it  is  still  in 


SEBM.  IV.]        Cnicifylng  the  Son  of  God  afresh.  69 

man's  power  to  reiterate  and  prolong  His  death  until  IIo 
come  to  judge  tlie  long  succession  of  His  crucifiers.  St 
Paul  delivers  to  us  the  tremendous  truth,  that  there  is  in 
man  a  continued  capacity  of  "  crucifying  afresh  the  Son  of 
God ;"  a  power  to  act  over  again  all  the  scene  of  his  torture, 
to  league  with  the  malignant  priests  and  the  scoffing  sol- 
diers, to  buffet  the  unresisting  cheek,  to  bind  the  crown  of 
thorns. 

You  will  be  mistaken  if  you  think  this  matter  can  be 
dismissed  under  the  cold  and  vague  criticism  which  pro- 
nounces it  a  merely  figurative  illustration  intended  to 
heighten  the  coloring  of  a  vivid  description.  It  is  not  thus 
that  the  deep  sayings  of  the  Holy  Ghost  are  to  be  treated. 
Believe  me  the  Apostles  do  not  descend  to  the  artifices  of 
popular  rhetoric.  The  proposition  before  us  is  of  too 
momentous  import  to  have  been  ever  intended  for  the 
secondary  or  accidental  purpose  here  imagined.  Such  a 
declaration  as  this,  if  it  were  not  in  some  sense  literally 
true,  would  have  been  misplaced  and  exaggerated  to  a 
degree  not  to  be  admitted  by  any  reverential  interpreter  of 
the  word  of  God. 

It  must,  indeed,  be  conceded,  that  the  crime  to  which  St 
Paul  specially  ascribes  this  fearful  character  is  a  peculiar 
one,  and,  in  its  full  extent,  not  ordinarily  exemplified.  lie 
speaks  of  deliberate  apostasy  from  the  faith  of  Jesus.  But 
there  is  no  one  characteristic  of  direct  and  utter  apostasy 
which  does  not,  in  its  own  degree,  belong  to  those  daily 
desertions  of  the  cause  of  Jesus  which  ally  the  miserable 
votaries  of  the  God  of  this  world  with  the  avowed  enemies 
of  Christ  in  every  age.  There  are  the  apostasies  of  the 
social  table,  of  the  fireside  and  the  market-place,  the  re- 
fined apostasies  of  our  own  modern  and  daily  life,  as  real 
as  the  imperial  treachery  of  a  Julian,  or  the  cold-blooded 
abandonment  of  a  Demas.  To  every  one  of  these  the  same 
impress  belongs;  it  may  be  branded  more  or  less  deeply, 
but  it  is  branded  on  all ;  they  are  all  alike  rife  with  the  spirit 


70  Crucifying  the  Son  of  God  afresh.       [SERM.  iv. 

of  Caiapbas's  council-chamber,  they  are  all  echoes  of  the 
voice  that  cried  aloud,  "  Crucify  Him,  crucify  Him !" 

Do  you  doubt  this,  my  brethren?  Is  it  too  severe  a 
charge,  too  oppressive  a  thought  to  entertain?  You  are 
not  pleased  with  the  ruthless  allegation,  so  needlessly, 
unjustly,  intemperately  stern.  It  is  scarcely  fair  that  a 
Christian  minister  should  seize  the  advantage  of  his  posi- 
tion to  load  his  fellow-servants  with  so  heavy  a  denun- 
ciation. Far  from  the  possibility  of  such  unspeakable  dis- 
loyalty, you  have  often  thought,  as  you  mused  over  the 
mournful  narrative  that  precedes  the  triumphant  close  of 
the  Gospels,  that  you  would  gladly  resign  the  whole  world 
to  have  had  but  the  opportunity  of  standing  beside  that 
cross  with  the  Virgin  Mother  and  St  John  ;  of  raising  your 
voices  boldly  against  the  murderers ;  of  avowing  with  all 
the  energy  of  indignant  justice,  that  you  would  be  no  part- 
ners in  their  wickedness ;  of  dying,  if  necessary,  under  their 
blows  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  innocence  that  writhed  and 
bled  before  them.  "  What !  crucify  Jesus,  my  Lord  and 
my  God !  The  rightful  sovereign  of  my  heart,  the  meek 
and  majestic  sufferer  whom  no  man  need  have  been  com- 
manded to  adore,  for  no  single-hearted  rnan  could  ever 
have  heard  or  seen  Him  without  the  instinctive  adoration 
of  devoted  love !  Crucify  Him  F  No ;  bring  me  to  the 
trial,  place  me  in  the  judgment-hall  of  Pilate,  or  in  front 
of  the  accursed  tree;  let  me  look  but  once  upon  my 
Saviour's  face,  and  I  will  tear  that  wreath  of  thorns  from 
his  dishonored  brow,  and  bend  in  worship  of  my  insulted 
Lord  before  them  all !" 

Alas !  we  cannot  do  this  for  you.  The  test,  perhaps  in 
mercy,  is  impracticable.  But  there  is  a  test  we  can  apply. 
"Will  you  honestly  abide  it  ?  Pass  from  imaginary  suppo- 
sitions to  attainable  facts,  from  what  you  might  do  if  you 
but  were  as  you  never  can  be,  to  what  you  are  doing  in  the 
position  where  God  has  placed  you.  Eeflcct  on  the  frame 
and  temper  of  mind,  on  the  weakness  and  the  wickedness, 


SERM.  IV.]        Crucifying  the  Son  of  God  afresh.  71 

that  made  the  chosen  people  of  God  the  murderers  of  Ills 
Son,  and  try  if  you  cannot  catch  some  faint  image  of  that 
treachery  in  your  own  hearts.  But  be  true  to  yourselves 
if  you  would  indeed  detect  the  lurking  evil,  and  think  not 
that  even  among  the  lest  of  us,  in  a  world  of  oft-recurring 
temptation,  it  is  useless  to  prosecute  the  scrutiny.  Doubt- 
less the  accuracy  of  the  image  will  vary  in  degree :  here, 
through  progressive  sanctification,  all  but  obliterated  ;  here, 
through  remaining  worldliness,  vivid  and  undeniable  ;  here, 
through  total  rejection  of  Christ,  all  but  complete.  To 
those  whom  God  has  taught  and  guided  by  His  own  deep 
Spirit,  these  reasonings  may  be  little  applicable ;  ihey  may 
be  enabled  to  feel  themselves  truly  one  with  Christ  in  His 
humiliation  and  His  sufferings  ;  they  may  be  given  to  know, 
by  the  blessed  experience  of  an  "  overcome  world,"  that 
their  faith  is  indeed  competent  to  stand  a  fiery  trial.  Yet, 
even  they, — if  any  such  rare  and  blessed  spirits  be  before 
me, — can  find  it  a  cause  of  holy  vigilance  to  be  thus  urged  to 
examine  themselves  yet  more  and  more,  and  a  cause  of 
delighted  gratitude  to  feel  that,  if  there  be  cowardice,  and 
indifference,  and  treason  all  around  them,  their  God  has 
reserved  them  from  the  miseries  and  condemnation  of  sucli 
a  state. 

Erect  then  the  cross  of  Christ  in  the  centre  of  His  bap- 
tized Church,  even  as  it  stood  of  old  on  Calvary  !  The  Son 
of  God  has  borne  it.  He  stands  beside  it,  as  on  that  dark 
day.  A  word  may  save  Him  the  coming  ignominy,  but 
will  the  people  speak  it  ?  They  gather  around  him  with 
eager  eyes.  No  topic  engages  their  thoughts  or  inquiries 
but  Him  and  His  fate.  His  name  is  on  every  lip.  While 
they  thus  congregate  to  this  new  crucifixion,  we  may  stand 
aside  and  contemplate  the  throng. 

To  estimate  the  resemblance  we  must  turn  to  the  original. 
When  Christ  was,  in  that  day  of  mingled  horror  and  glorj^, 
sacrificed  on  Calvary,  few  things  were  more  remarkable  in 
the  accessories  of  the  event  than  the  feelings  and  motives 


72  Crucifying  the  Son  of  Ood  afresh.       [seem.  IV. 

of  the  2^'^ople.  Christ  was  iinq-aestionably  a  favorite  with 
the  mass  of  the  people ;  the  great  obstacle  to  the  schemes 
of  the  priests  was  always  that  "  they  feared  the  people." 
His  gracious  bearing,  and  the  mysterious  anticipation  that 
surrounded  and  dignified  His  singular  life,  had  evidently 
caught  and  conciliated  the  popular  mind.  Nor  was  it  un- 
qualified malignity  that  made  them  His  persecutors.  Christ 
Himself  had  found  a  palliation  for  this  crime  in  their  igno- 
rance, He  besought  forgiveness  for  them  because  "they 
hievj  not  what  they  did."  Yet,  however  it  came  to  pass, 
this  people,  thus  disposed,  are  found  the  unanimous  destroy- 
ers of  their  Prophet,  the  tumultuous  petitioners  for  His 
crucifixion,  the  fierce  invokers  of  His  blood  on  them  and 
on  their  children ! 

Strange  as  this  appears,  is  there  indeed  nothing  that  re- 
sembles it  in  our  own  experience  ?  Is  no  parallel  to  be 
found  for  it  in  the  Christian  world  around  us  ?  Can  we 
not,  when  we  go  abroad  into  the  highways  of  daily  life, 
find  something  in  the  general  mind  that  reminds  us  of  a 
people  honoring  Christ  as  long  as  He  offers  easy  blessings, 
flocking  round  His  standard  with  enthusiasm  so  long  as  He 
is  made  the  standard-bearer  of  a  party,  professing  boundless 
admiration,  devotion,  and  love;  yet  when  the  true  hour  of 
trial  comes,  and  the  question  can  no  longer  be  escaped, — 
Shall  we  surrender  our  pleasures  or  our  Eedeemer? — give 
up  the  favor  of  earthly  superiors  or  the  favor  of  the  King 
of  Heaven? — abandon  our  cherished  sins,  or  with  our  sins 
nail  Jesus  to  the  cross  once  more? — then^  relinquishing  their 
short-lived  discipleship,  following  the  instigation  of  blind 
and  guilty  guides,  turning  with  the  turning  tide,  and  swell- 
ing the  torrent  of  the  persecutors  of  the  Body  of  Christ. 

Turn  again  to  the  record.  Among  the  unhappy  instru- 
ments of  Satan,  on  that  dread  occasion,  was  one  whose 
name,  almost  unknown  in  all  else,  his  relation  to  this  event 
has  miserably  immortalized — the  wretched,  wavering,  timo- 
rous Pilate,    AVillino^  to  save,  but  afraid  to  resist,  anxious 


SERM.  IV.]        Crucifying  the  Son  of  Ood  afresh.  73 

to  do  right  as  long  as  virtue  cost  no  trouble, — has  this 
crucifier  of  Christ  no  image  among  us?  Are  there  no 
Pilates  among  our  grave  and  reputable  men  of  business  ? — 
none  who  could  be  models  of  consummate  piety  if  there  were 
no  danger  of  its  disturbing  their  tenure  of  wealth  and  influ- 
ence?— who  would  gladly  save  the  Son  of  God  from  degra- 
dation if  they  were  not  a  little  apprehensive  of  degrading 
themselves  in  the  task, — and  would  allow  Him  supreme 
authority  as  long  as  their  own  was  warranted  secure? 
Compounders  between  earth  and  heaven,  who  would  have 
the  best  of  this  life  and  the  life  to  come, — it  is  not  to  such 
that  Christ  will  intrust  the  maintenance  of  His  honor  on 
earth.  Well  He  knows  that  a  single  pressing  trial  must 
infallibly  determine  the  hesitating  heart  to  easy  evil ;  that 
the  crowd  have  but  to  threaten  discontent,  the  powerful  to 
hint  impeachment,  and  the  Pilate  of  daily  life  will  hand 
over  his  Lord  to  the  torturers. 

Not  far  removed  from  this  is  the  case  of  those  rulers  who 
struggled  against  their  very  faith  lest  it  should  hazard  their 
popularity.  "Among  the  chief  rulers,"  says  St  John, 
"  many  believed  on  Him,  but  because  of  the  Pharisees  they 
did  not  confess  Him,  lest  they  should  be  put  out  of  the 
synagogue ;  for  they  loved  the  praise  of  men  more  than  the 
praise  of  God."  Alas!  these  poor  dependents  on  human 
fame  stand  not  alone  in  the  world;  this  weapon  of  the  evil 
one  has  not  been  suffered  to  rust  in  disuse  !  False  shame 
operated  against  confession,  of  course,  in  all  ranks,  but  it 
was  among  "  the  chief  rulers"  that  it  is  here  eminently  re- 
corded to  have  wrought,  and  the  fact  is  instructive.  It  is 
among  the  higher  orders  that  the  verdict  of  society  becomes 
of  such  tremendous  moment, — heavy  enough  to  outweigh 
every  other  consideration,  vague  and  vast  enough  to  hide 
God  and  His  judgment  altogether  from  our  view.  What 
is  peculiarly  dangerous  about  this  influence  is  the  insidious- 
ness  of  its  advances.  It  is  not  with  open  disavowal  that 
the  votary  of  fashionable  worldliness  disclaims  the  Lord  of 
7 


74  Gracifying  the  Son  of  God  afresh,       [seem.  iv. 

glory.  A  peril  sucli  as  this  might  be  met  and  warded  off. 
But  society  does  its  work  surely  because  slowly.  Eeligion 
is  not  proved  to  be  absurd,  but  assumed  to  be  so;  the  world 
would  not  harshly  ask  us  to  disbelieve  in  Christ,  but 
merely  to  forget  Him.  Principles  are  lost  for  ever  before 
we  have  dreamed  they  were  in  danger,  and  the  poor  victim 
of  the  world's  opinion  has  learned  to  "  crucify  afresh  the 
Son  of  God,"  without  relinquishing  one  outward  character- 
istic of  discipleship ! 

But  these,  wretched  and  criminal  as  they  are,  are  but 
the  less  daring  forms  of  crime.  Deeper  guilt  than  this 
bore  the  sufiering  Lamb  of  God  to  His  cross,  and  deeper 
guilt  than  this  is  not  confined  to  His  first  crucifiers.  Can 
we  witness  nothing  that  recalls  the  rebellious  ambition  of 
those  who  said,  "  This  is  the  heir ;  come,  let  us  kill  Him, 
and  the  inheritance  shall  be  ours?"  The  world  at  large, — 
yea,  the  far  immense  of  worlds, — is  the  inalienable  property 
of  God ;  the  inheritance  is  entailed  upon  that  only-begotten 
Son  "whom,"  it  is  written,  "He  appointed  Heir  of  all 
things."  And  when,  refusing  to  hold  as  His  lessees,  spurn- 
ing His  rights  of  lordship,  we  would  explode  His  claims 
for  antiquated  and  fanciful,  that  we  may  enjoy  His  gift  as 
though  the  fee  were  ours ;  in  all  this  is  there  none  of  that 
spirit  which  once  raged  in  those  who,  in  angry  impatience 
of  His  claims,  "took  counsel  against  Him  for  to  put  Him 
to  death  ?"  And  when  a  paltry  hope  of  gain  or  advance- 
ment can  bribe  us  to  forsake  a  gracious  Master,  to  forget 
all  He  has  done,  and  all  He  has  borne ;  does  he  remain  then 
alone  in  the  world  who  "said  unto  the  chief  priests.  What 
will  ye  give  me,  and  I  will  deliver  Him  unto  you?"  Nay, 
at  such  an  hour,  we  are  worse  than  Judas ;  for  even  Judas, 
the  miserable  suicide  of  remorse,  we  may  believe,  had  an- 
other option  been  his,  would  not  have  "crucified  the  Son 
of  God  afresh  r'' 

Can  we  descend  yet  deeper?  Christ  was  crucified  on 
the  imputation  of  blasphemy.    "He  hath  spoken  blasphemy ; 


SERM.  IV.]        Crucifying  the  Son  of  Ood  afresh.  75 

behold  now  ye  have  heard  his  blasphemy.  What  think 
ye?  They  answered  and  said,  He  is  guilty  of  death." 
What  was  the  "  blasphemy  ?"  He  had  called  Himself  the 
Son  of  God,  and  the  Son  of  Man,  and  in  right  of  this  trans- 
cendent union,  the  Judge  to  come  "in  the  clouds  of  heaven," 
and  "sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  power."  If  this  was/aZse, 
his  crucifiers  were  justified;  if  this  was  false,  in  a  theocratic 
government.  He  deserved  His  fate.  There  are  those  who 
pronounce  that  mysterious  title  false  in  any  sense  that 
could  have  ever  made  it  "blasphemy"  from  human  lips, 
who  deny  the  Sonship  of  the  Eternal  any  significance  be- 
yond what  more  or  less  belongs  to  all  the  virtuous  re- 
vealers  and  interpreters  of  the  will  of  heaven  that  have  ever 
instructed  man.  Surely  we  cannot  in  justice  refuse  to  such 
impugners  the  place  they  have  chosen  for  themselves  in 
the  throng  that  circled  the  cross  of  Jesus! 

Still  we  have  not  sunk  to  the  last  level  of  the  Jewish 
persecutors.  Fallen  as  we  are,  we  could  not  have  borne  to 
prefer  Barabbas,  the  thief  and  murderer,  to  our  pure  and 
guiltless  Redeemer.  And  who,  then,  are  the  darling  idols 
of  human  applause?  Who  are  the  chosen  of  our  race  that 
poetry  crowns  with  its  halo  of  glory,  and  every  young 
imagination  bows  to  worship?  Who,  but  the  laurelled 
Barabbases  of  history,  the  chartered  robbers  and  homicides 
that  stain  its  pages  with  blood,  and  that,  after  eighteen  hun- 
dred years  of  Christian  discipline,  the  world  has  not  yet 
risen  to  discountenancing?  Remove  the  conventional  dis- 
credit that  attaches  to  the  weaker  thief,  exalt  him  to  the 
majesty  of  the  military  despot,  and  how  many  would  vote 
for  Barabbas,  how  many  linger  with  the  lowly  Jesus  ? 

"Be  it  so,  but  our  votes  would  at  least  be  open  and  un- 
disguised, we  would  not  stoop  to  the  meanness  of  hypo- 
crisy. We  would  not,  with  those  you  are  pleased  to  make 
our  prototypes,  'put  on  Him  the  scarlet  robe  and  the 
crown,  and  the  sceptre,'  that  we  might  'bow  the  knee  and 
mock  Him.'     Of  this^  at  least,  we  are  incapable."    Perhaps 


76  Crvucifying  the  Son  of  God  afresh.       [SERM.  IV. 

so.  I  praj  God  it  may  be  so.  And  yet,  recall  but  tbe 
hour  that  lias  just  now  floated  past  you  into  eternity,  when 
you  "  bowed  the  knee"  to  this  same  Jesus  who  was  cruci- 
fied, when  your  lips  uttered  words  of  piercing  sorrow,  and 
besought  His  mercy  and  implored  His  aid,  as  erring  and 
straying  sheep,  as  miserable  offenders,  miserable  sinners. 
Ask  yourselves  how  many  knees  were  bowed  in  the  re- 
pentance the  lips  rehearsed,  how  many  hearts  were  melted 
in  the  agony  the  tongue  so  readily  expressed.  And  if  con- 
science whisper  an  accusation,  bethink  you  how  differs  this 
from  the  guilt  of  those  who  called  Him  King  and  despised 
the  royalty  they  ascribed ;  or  was  it  more  a  crime  to  insult 
Him  when  He  walked  the  earth  in  'poverty  and  pain,  than 
when  he  sits,  as  now,  the  recognized  monarch  of  the  uni- 
verse ! 

Such  a  monarch  is  He,  and  in  such  glory  enthroned. 
And  yet,  with  all  the  splendor  that  surrounds  Him,  doubt- 
less He  does  feel  in  some  unimaginable  way  for  our  sor- 
rows, and  does  lament  our  sins.  Infinitely  happy  He  is 
indeed ;  but  we  do  not  know  what  elements  may  be 
mingled  without  destroying  celestial  happiness.  That  He 
rejoices  in  our  triumphs  is  certain ;  how  can  this  be  if  He 
regret  not  our  lapses?  And  when  the  Apostle  tells  us 
that  wilful  rejection  of  Christ  can  still  in  some  sense  per- 
petuate His  shame,  who  shall  dare  to  set  accurate  limits  to 
these  awfal  revelations  ?  Think,  then,  were  it  possible  to 
renew  in  all  its  literal  horrors  the  degradation  and  insult 
of  Calvary,  to  act  the  scene  of  ignominy  before  assembled 
heaven,  to  drag  the  everlasting  King  from  His  throne  amid 
the  wondering  and  weeping  angels, — think  if  each  delibe- 
rate sin  were  again  to  disgrace  Him  as  He  was  disgraced 
before, — who  among  us  could  endure,  under  any  force  of 
temptation,  to  risk  such  atrocious  guilt  ?  Yet,  if  there  be 
truth  in  Scripture,  such  guilt,  or  a  guilt  like  this,  is  in 
effect  yours,  when,  taught  to  approach  a  covenanted  God 
in  Christ,  you  turn  with  contempt  from  Him  who  loved 


SERM.  IV.]        Cmcifyiivj  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  77 

and  bouglit  jou.  You  see  it,  brethren !  tlie  tragedy  of 
Golgotha  has  many  actors ;  every  generation,  every  land 
reiterates  these  multiplied  crucifixions.  Be  assured  that 
the  man  who  rejects  Christ  now,  when  He  is  formally 
recognized  by  high  and  noble,  would  have  been  much  more 
certain  to  have  joined  in  crucifying  Him  in  Judea.  The 
Pharisees  boasted,  "  If  we  had  been  in  the  days  of  our 
fathers,  we  would  not  have  been  partakers  with  them  in 
the  blood  of  the  prophets ;"  and  having  so  spoken,  they 
proceeded  to  murder  the  Lord  and  Inspirer  of  prophets. 
May  God  in  mercy  enable  all  of  us,  who  have  not  deeply 
weighed  this  most  awful  matter,  at  length  to  lay  it  to  heart. 
May  He  fulfil  to  us  what  He  has  promised  by  His  prophet 
to  our  unhappy  ancestors  in  crime,  the  "  spirit  of  grace  and 
of  supplication,"  that  we  may  learn  to  "  look  upon  Him 
whom  we  have  pierced."  So,  and  so  only,  shall  we  escape 
being  of  those  "kindreds  of  the  earth"  that  shall  "wail 
because  of  Him,"  when  He  shall  "come  with  clouds,  and 
every  eye  shall  see  Him ;  and  they  also  which  'pierced  Him^^^ 
the  crucifiers  of  every  age  and  nation,  shall  shrink  in 
horror  and  dread  before  the  blaze  of  His  advent  glory! 
Oh,  brethren  in  Christ !  in  that  fearful  hour  how  happy, 
beyond  all  that  thought  can  conceive  or  words  declare,  for 
those  who,  familiar  with  the  cross,  can  look  upon  it  not  as 
the  symbol  of  the  sorrow  and  shame  they  have  willingly 
inflicted,  but  as  the  symbol  of  sufferings  in  which  they 
were  willingly  united  with  their  Master,  with  Him  crucified, 
that  they  may  be  with  Him  glorified,  His  blessed  associates 
in  the  bliss  unspeakable  of  His  own  immortal  kingdom. 


7* 


SERMON  V. 

THE  POWER  OF  THE  EESURRECTION. 

(Preached  on  Easter  Bay.) 
In  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive. — 1  CoR.  xt.  22. 

It  is  one  chief  advantage  of  that  regular  course  of 
festivals  by  which  the  Church  fosters  the  piety  of  her 
children,  that  they  tend  to  preserve  a  due  proportion  and 
equilibrium  in  our  religious  views.  We  have  all  a  ten- 
dency, according  to  our  several  constitutions,  and  the 
circumstances  of  our  peculiar  position  in  life,  to  adopt  par- 
tial views  of  Christian  truth ;  to  insulate  certain  doctrines 
from  their  natural  accompaniments ;  and  to  call  our  favor- 
ite fragment  the  Gospel.  We  hold  a  few  texts  so  near  our 
eyes  that  they  hide  all  the  rest  of  the  Bible.  Whatever 
we  cannot  at  once  refer  to  our  chosen  centre  seems  insig- 
nificant ;  whatever  we  can,  seems  important  only  in  that 
connection.  ISTor  does  it  always  mend  the  matter,  that  it 
should  really  be  a  very  cardinal  tenet  we  thus  exclusively 
espouse.  It  may  indeed  be  better  to  lose  the  exterior 
limbs  than  the  inner  and  vital  organs  of  the  frame.  But 
we  know  of  how  little  practical  use  or  comfort, — nay,  how 
impossible  to  preserve, — would  be  these  vital  organs  with- 
out limbs  to  animate,  and  by  which  in  turn  they  might  be 
supplied  with  tributary  nourishment  and  support.  Now 
the  Church  festival  system  ministers  a  perpetual  corrective 
to  this  tendency ;  and  hence,  not  improbably,  one  cause  of 


SERM.  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  79 

its  general  unpopularity  with  all  those  sects  that  have  been 
so  unfortunate  as  to  abandon  the  primitive  balance  of  doc- 
trine. It  will  not  let  us  isolate  our  chosen  facts  and  favor- 
ite tenets.  It  spreads  the  Gospel  history  in  all  its  fulness 
across  the  whole  surface  of  the  sacred  year.  It  is  a  sort  of 
chronological  creed,  which  forces  us,  whether  we  will  or 
no,  by  the  very  revolution  of  times  and  seasons,  to  give  its 
proper  place  and  dignity  to  every  separate  article.  "  Day 
unto  day  uttereth  speech ;"  and  the  tone  of  each  holy  anni- 
versary is  distinct  and  decisive.  Thus  our  festival  year  is 
a  bulwark  of  orthodoxy  as  real  as  our  confessions  of  faith. 
It  is  a  perpetual  image  or  moving  panorama  of  the  truth 
"  whole  and  undefiled."  It  will  not  allow  caprice  or  per- 
versity to  distort  or  to  suppress.  It  will  not  suffer  guilty 
or  precipitate  men  to  rob  the  precious  story  of  one  single 
glorious  element ;  but  sets  our  whole  goodly  treasure  in  due 
succession  before  us,  that  of  all  which  He  hath  given  us  we 
may  lose  none.  Well  might  the  prophet  mourn  as  the 
darkest  indication  of  divine  vengeance  upon  desolated 
Judah, — well  might  we  mourn,  if  the  short-sightedness  of 
weak  men  had  ever  been  permitted  to  succeed  in  similarly 
desolating  us; — "The  Lord  hath  taken  away  His  taber- 
nacle. He  hath  destroyed  His  places  of  the  assembly ;  the 
Lord  hath  caused  the  solemn  feasts  and  sabbaths  to  be  for- 
gotten in  Zion." — Lam.  ii.  6. 

These  thoughts  naturally  arise  when  we  pass  from  day 
to  day  in  this  portion  of  the  year,  so  thronged  with  solemn 
commemorations  that  suggest  their  respective  doctrines. 
"When  one  reflects  upon  the  weight  and  vastness  of  each, 
it  is  indeed  no  wonder  that  each  should  fill  the  whole 
horizon  of  thought ;  that  frail  imperfect  men,  left  to  their 
own  speculations,  should  tend  to  seize  every  one  his  own, 
and  strive  to  build  a  Christianity  upon  it ;  that  "  what  God 
hath  joined  together"  men  should  thus  be  prone  "  to  put 
asunder;"  that,  in  short,  nearly  all  honest  error  should 
spring  from  this  infatuation  of  arbitrary  selection  where 


80  Tlie  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [seem.  v. 

all  is  equally  revealed.  But  surely  we  ought  thence  to 
acknowledge  how  inestimable  becomes  any  influence  that 
tends,  silently  and  unsuspected ly,  to  insinuate  a  remedy, 
and  maintain,  in  our  wavering  uncertain  thoughts,  the 
integrity  of  divine  truth. 

Take,  for  example,  the  subject  of  your  reflections  two 
days^  since,  and  the  theme  of  your  praises  to-day.  In  some 
men's  scheme  of  religion,  the  Crucifixion  of  Christ  seems  to 
absorb  every  other  doctrine  into  itself;  to  stand  alone,  as  in 
its  own  depths  embodying  all  that  men  ought  or  can  con- 
ceive of  the  Gospel.  To  others  the  Kesurrection  of  Christ 
from  the  dead,  the  visible  triumph  over  the  grave,  is  almost 
solely  worthy  of  a  place  among  fundamental  beliefs ;  all 
beyond  that  and  its  consequences  is  practically  subordinate, 
— secondary, — unimportant.  But  the  Church,  by  the  series 
of  her  celebrations,  forces  these  theorists,  in  despite  of  them- 
selves, to  come  forth  from  their  narrow  cells,  and  walk  in 
the  full  daylight  of  consummate  truth.  She  assigns  its  due 
honors  to  each.  She  does  more  than  this,  for  she  pro- 
claims that  either  is  shorn  of  its  glory  unless  seen  in  the 
light  of  the  other.  The  depths  of  the  first  day  are  mea- 
sured by  the  heights  of  the  third.  She  adores  the  agony 
because  the  resurrection  proves  who  He  was  that  agonized; 
she  adores  the  resurrection  because  the  agony  attests  how 
He  loved  that  rose.  She  may  divide  them  in  conception, 
but  she  com^bines  them  in  act.  They  are  one  atoning  work  ; 
inseparable  correlatives ;  perfect  only  in  union.  And  hence 
she  will  not  let  us  pause  too  long  even  at  the  grave  of  the 
Saviour.  She  will  not  permit  even  a  holy  sorrow  to  be 
unchecked.  She  wills  not  that  we  still  seek  the  living 
among  the  dead,  but  startles  our  dream  of  grief  with  that 
angel's  trumpet-tone, — "Ye  seek  Jesus  the  crucified.  He 
is  not  here ;  He  is  risen  !" 

The   results   of  the  exclusive   views  of  which  I  have 

'  Good  Friday. 


SEEM,  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  81 

spoken  upon  personal  piety,  are,  of  course,  a  partial  and 
imperfect  sanctiiication.  For  the  life  of  the  believer  in 
Christ  must  be  the  living  transcript  of  his  faith.  Those 
who  lose  all  in  the  Crucifixion  are  at  home  in  Gethsemane 
and  Calvary,  but  strangers  to  Olivet  and  Tabor.  Their 
hearts,  cold  and  depressed  by  the  undivided  subject  of  their 
thoughts,  find  in  religion  only  the  everlasting  discipline  of 
a  loveless  penitence  ; — "  darkness  is  over  the  face  of  the 
earth,"  and  heaven  has  but  a  faint  and  distant  star-light 
to  compensate  it.  Their  very  sabbaths  are  Good  Fri- 
days ;  their  joy  the  hope  of  future  delivery,  not  the  bright 
and  cheering  sense  of  present  freedom.  Others  in  the  same 
imperfect  belief,  possessing  a  nature  more  cheerful  and  elastic, 
are  liable  to  yet  deeper  perils.  They  are  confident  without 
resolute  obedience  or  active  love.  Failing  to  remember  that 
dead  with  Christ  they  are  also  risen  with  Him,  they  forget 
that  the  very  essence  of  His  salvation  is  salvation  into  the 
new  obedience  of  the  adopted  child  of  God.  Seeing  in  the 
death  of  Christ  the  full  satisfaction  for  sin,  they  are  tempted 
almost  to  pervert  the  satisfaction  into  a  license,  the  easy 
security  of  worldliness,  indifference,  and  sloth.  Such  are 
the  dangers  of  those  who  habitually  dwell  on  only  the  for- 
mer half  of  the  redeeming  Avork  of  Christ.  But  is  it  better 
when  we  contemplate  the  exclusive  votaries  of  the  other, — 
those  who  lose  the  sorrows  in  the  victory  of  the  Eedeemer  ? 
They  rejoice  indeed  in  the  proof  which  the  Eesurrection  of 
Christ  furnishes,  of  the  similar  exaltation  of  the  virtuous 
and  holy.  They  see  in  it  the  title  to  an  inheritance  of 
power  and  of  glory  for  man.  But  of  the  humiliation  He 
demands  as  requisite  for  the  holiness  He  gives  and  the  glory 
He  promises,  their  conceptions  are  inadequate  and  feeble. 
Often  they  speak  of  the  high  perfection  of  the  Saint,  his 
superiority  to  the  world,  his  enjoyments  and  his  hopes;  but 
they  will  not  see  tliat  such  perfection  is  only  to  be  attained 
in  the  deep  and  humbling  consciousness  of  sin  and  weak- 
ness,— that,  to  be  indeed  "risen  with  Christ,"  we  must  have 


82  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [SERM.  V. 

"  died  witli  Christ,"  and  learned  the  lesson  of  abasement 
at  the  foot  of  the  Cross.  You  will  not  accept  either  of 
these  fragmentary  Gospels.  You  will  not  rend  the  seamless 
garment  which  was  meant  to  cover  in  its  ample  folds  every 
true  want  and  wish  of  our  regenerate  nature.  You  will  see 
in  the  one  mighty  event  the  ground  of  humiliation,  in  the 
other  of  joy;  and,  blending  that  humiliation  and  joy  in  one 
blessed  mood,  will  come  to  know  what  is  that  state,  wrought 
out  of  faith  and  hope,  yet  greater  than  either,  which  it  is 
the  object  of  the  Gospel  to  work  in  Man, — that  lowliness 
which,  prostrate  in  the  dust,  yet  lives  in  heaven, — which, 
lost  to  itself,  is  found  in  Christ, — that  "love,"  or  utter 
abandonment  of  self  for  God  and  for  the  brethren  in  God, 
which  beareth  all,  believeth  all,  hopeth  all,  endureth  all, — 
which  is  all  graces  in  one  and  one  grace  through  all,  but 
which,  springing  as  it  essentially  does  from  our  union  with 
Christ,  rests,  in  even  its  loftiest  forms,  for  its  whole  support, 
upon  the  two  eternal  foundations, — which  yet  are  not  two 
but  one, — that  He  which  rose  had  died,  and  He  that  died 
rose  again ! 

But  the  mystery  of  Love  and  the  mystery  of  Power, 
though  thus  inseparable  as  one  redeeming  act  and  thence 
both  for  ever  blended  in  one  baptism  into  Christ,  may,  of 
course,  be  thought  of  successively  even  as  they  were 
wrought  successively;  and  so  the  Church  intends  in  her 
yearly  image  of  the  story  of  Christ.  It  is,  I  repeat,  this 
very  division  which  insures  that  no  one  element  of  the  truth 
shall  be  mutilated  or  forgotten.  To-day  we  would  not 
have  you  forget  the  Cross,  we  know  you  cannot  understand 
the  motives  of  your  own  joy  without  it;  but  we  would 
more  eminently  lead  you  to  contemplate  the  Crown  and 
the  Triumph. 

You  are,  then,  to  see  in  the  Resurrection  of  Christ  from 
the  dead  the  proof  of  His  own  power  over  Death ;  you  are 
to  see  in  it  the  everlasting  proof  and  pledge  of  your  own 
immortality;  you  are  first  to  contemplate  the  Lord  Himself 


SERM.  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  83 

as  in  His  own  flesh,  the  personal  Conqueror  of  Death ;  and 
then, — as,  even  during  His  earthly  humiliation,  exhibiting 
that  power  as  capable  of  extension  to  the  resurrection  of 
others;  and  again, — as  after  His  ascension, — quickening  the 
dead  world  into  a  living  Church  by  an  incessant  work  of 
spiritual  revival,  which  is  but  another  and  higher  form  of 
the  same  gift  and  energy ;  and  finally,  as  combining  both 
in  the  universal  resurrection  of  body  and  spirit  at  the  last 
day. 

I.  The  Resurrection  of  Christ  is  the  great  public  mani- 
festation of  His  authority  over  the  power  of  physical  decay 
and  death.  This  it  is  by  being  His  own  personal  conquest 
of  that  power  as  it  had  been  exercised  upon  Himself;  a 
characteristic  which  separates  it  from  all  other  instances  of 
similar  miraculous  restorations.  All  others,  in  whatsoever 
age  of  the  world,  had  been  raised  by  a  power  from  without ; 
He  alone  by  Himself  The  power  that  revived  all  stands 
self-revived.  This  is  indeed  to  "  quicken  whom  He  will ;" 
this  is  indeed  to  "have  life  in  Himself."  But  the  case  is 
even  more  pre-eminent  in  another  view.  In  all  other  in- 
stances Death  had  but  touched  the  verge  of  God's  real  em- 
pire, and  been  at  His  pleasure  repelled ;  here  the  rebel  had 
stormed  the  citadel,  and  planted  his  dark  standard  in  its 
inmost  hold.  That  which  is  the  very  principle  of  vitality 
to  the  whole  world  had  seemed  to  wither  in  his  grasp  upon 
the  Cross;  when  majestically  rose  the  unvanquished  Lord 
of  Life,  and  hurled  him  back  and  for  ever  to  darkness. 
The  resurrection  of  the  dust  of  a  thousand  ages  to  the  Judg- 
ment, wondrous  as  it  shall  be,  cannot  approach  to  this. 
The  dead  who  then  shall  live,  shall  live  by  a  power  exerted 
in  all  the  fulness  of  visible  and  irresistible  authority;  it  will 
be  but  the  act  of  a  known  and  recognized  Creator,  not  per- 
haps as  truly  wonderful  as  a  thousand  natural  processes 
that  surround  us  every  hour.  But  the  dead  Christ,  who 
lived  again,  was  prostrate  under  His  enemy  the  hour  He 
overwhelmed  him ;  the  conqueror  was  chained  and  bleeding 


84  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [SERM.  V. 

beneath  the  foe  He  destroyed.     As  a  man  truly  dead,  He 
was  inextinguishably  alive  as  God. 

And  in  this  view  it  may  be  instructive  to  notice  the 
strange  inconsistency  of  the  Socinian  heresy.  The  views 
popular  with  its  unhappy  followers,  it  is  too  well  known, 
are  usually  materialist ; — that  is,  they  are  prone  to  believe 
that  that  which  is  called  the  spiritual  essence  in  man  is  the 
pure  result  of  bodily  organization,  and,  disappearing  out  of 
existence  with  the  dissolution  of  the  body,  shall  live  again 
only  by  the  re-creation  of  that  body  at  the  Judgment.  Now 
as  it  is  certain  that  Christ  emphatically  ascribed  to  Himself 
a  power  of  self-resurrection^  it  may  be  asked  how  this  impor- 
tant fact  is  to  be  explained  on  these  principles.  What  was 
that  which  raised  Christ  from  the  dead  ?  It  was  not  the 
soul;  for  this  being,  as  they  tell  us,  a  bodily  attribute,  was 
of  course  dead  with  the  rest  of  the  body,  awaiting,  not  giv- 
ing life.  It  was  no  diviner  principle  inherent  in  Christ, 
for  this  they  will  not  admit  Him  to  have  ever  possessed. 
Palpably  the  fact  of  self-resurrection  is  inconceivable  on 
such  a  scheme;  plainly,  either  man  has  a  spirit  distinct 
from  the  body  and  surviving  it,  or  Christ  was  more  than 
man. 

II.  But  as  the  self-resurrection  of  Christ  stands  alone  as 
a  monument  of  His  inherent  power  of  life,  so  He  has  every- 
where intimated  that  this  is  exercised  with  a  view  to  the 
beings  He  came  to  redeem.  That  this  connection  might  be 
clearly  apprehended, — that  it  might  never  be  said  that  this 
great  reviver  of  the  dead  could  only  pour  the  stream  of  life 
into  His  own  frame,  and  possessed  no  energy  diffusive 
through  all  mankind, — He  has,  in  visible  proofs,  manifested 
it  both  before  and  after  His  own  resurrection.  I  do  not 
know  that  it  has  been  observed,  that  there  seems  a  sort  of 
progressive  scale^  of  these  resurrections  noted  in  the  Gospel 

*  The  celebrated  Ilomilj  of  St  Augustine,  "  On  tlie  three  dead  Persons 
raised  by  Christ"  (Horn,  xlviii,  Luke  vii.)  which  contains  a  very  similar 
line  of  thought,  could  not  have  been  overlooked.    St  Augustine,  however, 


SEEM,  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection,  85 

history.  The  daughter  of  Jairus  was  "even  now  dead," 
but  not  yet  removed  from  her  chamber;  "the  dead  man, 
the  only  son  of  his  mother,"  the  widow  of  Nain,  was  already 
"  carried  out"  to  burial  when  the  Lord  touched  the  bier ; 
Lazarus  was  "four  days"  dead;  the  saints  who  arose  after 
the  Eesurrection  had  long  been  dust  and  ashes : — the  gene- 
ral resurrection  yet  to  come  is  but  a  step  beyond  this.  It 
was  as  if  He  would  gradually  prepare  His  followers  for 
belief  in  His  omnipotence ;  teaching  them  by  a  progressive 
discipline  of  miracles  to  anticipate  the  great  marvel  of  all. 
And  there  is  a  remarkable  distinction  between  those  which 
preceded  and  succeeded  the  resurrection  of  Christ  Himself. 
In  the  former  the  body  still  remained ;  passing  rapidly  into 
dissolution  in  the  latest  case  (that  of  Lazarus),  but  not  yet 
dissolved :  in  the  latter,  as  if  to  manifest  the  fulness  of  tri- 
umph now  obtained  over  the  whole  force  of  death,  the  re- 
turning spirits  were  those  who  came  from  far  ages,  and 
whose  bodies  had  long  before  mouldered  into  nothingness. 
And  lest  we  should  undervalue  the  nature  of  the  revival, 
we  are  expressly  told  that  on  these  hoclies  it  was  wrought; — 
"  Many  bodies  of  the  saints  which  slept  arose,  and  came  out 
of  their  graves  after  His  resurrection."  There  was  here  an 
accession  of  power  to  the  Mediator ;  a  supremacy  unlimited 
by  time  or  space  was  henceforth  manifestly  His.  Here  was 
the  plain  type  of  the  universal  resurrection.  They  who  ad- 
mit the  one  cannot  doubt  the  equal  possibility  of  the  other. 
It  was  the  designed  token  that  no  outward  difficulty,  how- 
ever startling  to  our  limited  conceptions,  could  any  longer 
resist  the  will  of  the  risen  Saviour ;  that  all  the  might  of 
Death  was  now  and  for  ever  crushed  by  that  Almighty  arm; 
that  every  particle  of  the  living  frame  might  be  scattered 
on  the  winds,  or  even  re-appear  in  new  forms  of  being,  and 

represents  these  successive  resurrections  as  typifying  three  classes  of 
sinners  restored  from  so  many  various  degrees  of  guilt ;  while  Mr  Butler 
regards  them  as  progressive  developments  of  ClirisVs  power  as  the  resur- 
rection and  the  life. — Ed. 


86  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [seem.  v. 

yet  a  power  existed  that  could  recover  the  plundered  spoils 
of  Death,  could  re-embody  the  parted  spirit,  could  restore 
it  to  all  the  fulness  of  its  prerogatives  as  the  quickening 
principle  of  an  immortal  frame.  Still, — to  preserve  the 
progressive  development  of  divine  power, — you  will  per- 
ceive that  something  remains  for  faith.  The  immortal  frame 
is  promised,  not  exemplified.  It  has  never  been  formed  on 
earth  save  in  the  two  great  types  of  the  patriarchal  and  the 
Mosaic  dispensations,  Enoch  and  Elijah,  and  in  their  mighty 
antitype,  the  Lord  Himself.  The  saints  who  rose  at  the 
Eesurrection  disappeared  again  from  earth ;  we  know  not 
whither.  For  this  last  and  highest  exhibition  of  power, 
then,  we  must  rely  upon  that  promise  which  is  surer  than 
reason  itself  or  experience. 

Thus,  then,  we  have  seen  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  in 
His  own  person  triumphant  over  death,  diffuses  through  all 
His  followers  the  fruits  of  His  victory.  His  is  no  solitary 
glory.  He  conquered  Death,  not  for  Himself,  for  He  is 
essentially  above  it,  but  for  us,  who  are  its  helpless  bonds- 
men. His  victory  is  ours.  "  We  are  more  than  conquerors 
through  Him  that  loved  us."  This,  we  saw,  He  carefully 
exemplified  during  His  whole  life  by  public  visible  attesta- 
tions,— growing  in  force  and  significance  with  each  succes- 
sive instance.  These,  however,  are  but  the  types  and 
promises  of  power ;  the  power  itself,  in  the  fulness  of  its 
exercise  upon  the  universal  family  of  man,  was  yet  to 
come.  And  it  has  come.  It  is  even  now  in  its  vigor ;  it 
hastens  on  to  its  eternal  consummation.  For  even  the 
universal  resurrection  shall  be  but  the  natural  develop- 
ment of  that  which  now  works  in  the  children  of  God. 

III.  The  resurrection  power  has  not,  then,  ceased  after 
the  departure  of  Christ ;  on  the  contrary,  not  till  then  was 
it  adequately  in  action.  His  whole  Church  is  the  monu- 
ment of  its  existence  and  its  exercise.  That  Church  is 
built  upon  His  resurrection;  na}^,  being  mystically  "His 
Body,"  it  must  equally  be  in  the  same  mystical  sense  Him- 


SERM.  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  87 

self  risen  and  perpetuated  among  ns.  For  there  is  a  spirit- 
ual resurrection  and  there  is  a  physical  resurrection.  The 
latter  was  wrought  by  Christ  when  on  earth,  as  a  visible 
symbol  of  the  other,  and  a  proof  of  His  power  to  effect  it; 
Ilis  own  resurrection  from  the  dead  mysteriously  exempli- 
fied both  ;  the  general  resurrection  of  the  just  at  the  con- 
summation of  all  things  shall  again  and  for  ever  combine 
them.  That  is  to  say,  the  body  shall  arise  from  death,  and 
the  spirit,  already,  during  this  life,  "quickened  together 
with  Christ,"  shall  carry  it  into  the  enjoyment  and  vision 
of  God.  Then,  and  not  till  then,  shall  the  double  office  of 
Christ  be  completed.  How  these  two  things, — this  present 
internal  resurrection  of  grace,  and  the  past  and  future 
resurrection  of  Christ  and  of  us  to  glory, — are  blended  in 
the  records  of  our  faith,  I  need  not  tell  you  ; — how  we  are 
said  to  be  "  risen  with  Christ"  out  of  our  baptismal  burial 
with  Him ;  how  we  are  said,  in  "having  the  Son,"  to  "have" 
already  the  life  eternal  that  we  anticipate ;  how  the  work 
of  God  "  to  US-ward  who  believe"  is  said  to  be  "  according 
to  the  working  of  His  mighty  power  which  He  wrought  in 
Christ  when  He  raised  Him  from  the  dead."  Being  thus 
already  risen,  every  motion  of  grace  is  the  struggle  of  the 
soul  for  the  final  consummation  ;  the  bird  is  caged,  but  the 
wings  are  free  to  flutter  within  their  prison.  The  spirit  of 
Him  who  believes  and  loves,  already  "made  to  sit  in 
heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus,"  wearies  of  its  dark  and 
dead  companion,  that  still  is  "  of  the  earth,  earthy."  It 
longs  for  the  period  when  the  spiritual  body  shall  minister 
to  spiritual  desires,  and  the  whole  man  be  perfected  for 
God.  Meanwhile,  if  the  spiritual  resurrection  be  as  yet 
imperfect,  it  is  not  less  real.  The  spiritual  Lazarus  is 
raised  from  the  dead,  though  the  fleshly  frame,  the  grave- 
clothes  of  this  world's  charnel-house  still  encumber  him, 
and  the  word  has  not  yet  been  spoken,  ^^  Loose  him,  and  let 
him  go !"  The  resurrection  of  Christ,  once  performed  in 
act,  is  immortal  in  energy ;  He  rises  again  in  every  new- 


88  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [seem.  v. 

born  child  of  God.  Every  hour  witnesses  this  incessant 
work  of  the  new  life  He  inspires ;  yea,  He  is  now  as  active 
in  the  miracle  of  inward  resurrection,  as  He  shall  yet  be  in 
the  great  day  of  the  universal  one.  Wondrous  as  was  His 
own  rise  from  the  grave,  it  is  yet  more  wondrous,  if  that 
be  possible,  in  its  consequences  than  in  itself.  For,  if  you 
will  believe  the  Scriptures,  it  is  a  work  which  transcends 
all  limit  of  time  or  space.  In  the  union  of  Christ  with  His 
faithful  there  is,  as  they  tell  us,  a  perpetual  reiteration  of 
all  He  did,  even  to  the  end  of  the  world;  He  is  for  ever 
crucified  in  the  self-denying,  forever  buried  in  the  self- 
forgetting,  for  ever  risen  in  the  joyous  freedman  of  God. 
And  all  this  at  once ;  Himself  immutable : — even  as  the 
sun  fixed  in  the  central  heaven,  and  without  losing  one 
beam  of  its  own  changeless  glory,  is  at  the  same  moment  to 
one  land  the  dawn,  to  another  the  morn,  to  others  the 
noontide  and  the  evening,  as  they  catch  or  lose  his  beams. 
But  as  the  Eesurrection  was  the  antecedent  ground  and 
proof  of  His  power  to  build  the  kingdom  of  God  upon 
earth,  so  is  the  continued  work  of  resurrection  His  main 
function  in  building  it.  He  spreads  the  mighty  miracle  of 
His  own  regeneration  from  the  dead  along  the  whole  line 
of  its  history;  He  repeats  it  in  every  new  member  of  the 
city  of  God  ;  the  Church's  is  an  everlasting  Easter ! 

Brethren,  is  this  too  mysterious  for  your  apprehensions, 
— this  truth  that  Christ  should  thus  be  evermore  invisibly 
among  us,  working  us  into  the  transient  image  of  His  own 
sufferings,  and  unto  the  perfect  image  of  His  own  glory  ? 
Oh,  woe  to  those  who  will  have  a  religion  without  mystery! 
Far  from  us  be  that  miserable  theology  which  would 
interpret  the  deep  things  of  God  by  the  standard  of  our 
poor  and  petty  experience,  and  dare  to  measure  His  pos- 
sibilities by  what  we  can  see  and  feel ! — which  would  care- 
fully fetter  us  by  the  chains  of  time  and  sense,  when  the 
object  of  all  true  faith  is  to  struggle  beyond  them  !  Believe 
it,  there  is  a  bond  deep  as  eternity,  that  binds  you  to  your 


SERM.  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  89 

God  ;  and  that,  if  the  sole  true  home  of  that  God  is  heaven, 
in  heaven  even  now  are  ye  mystically  likewise.  Baptized 
into  Christ's  death  and  with  Ilim  risen,  what  but  the  body 
was  thenceforward  earthly?  "Blessed  with  all  spiritual 
blessings  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ,"  ye  want  but  faith 
to  know  the  celestial  world  which  encompasses  you. 
Surely  among  you, — unbeheld,  but,  oh,  how  clearly  and 
how  lovingly  beholding ! — moves  the  same  glorified  Jesus 
whom  the  prophet  in  Patmos  saw  as  He  walked  amid  the 
golden  lamps.  Surely  each  poor  disciple  is  dear  to  His 
heart  as  He  notes  the  toils  and  the  sorrows  of  each ;  nor 
can  they  who  have  the  first  fruits  of  His  Spirit  long  for 
the  redemption  of  the  body  more  earnestly,  than  He  desires 
the  blessed  day  when  in  His  light  they  shall  see  light, 
"awaking  in  His  likeness,"  and  "  satisfied!" 

IV.  For  this,  too,  we  must  needs  desire;  the  final  con- 
summation of  the  resurrection  work  of  Christ ;  the  restora- 
tion of  an  immortal  body  to  an  immortal  soul.  A  word 
or  two  we  must  say  of  this,  though  briefly  as  the  time 
demands. 

This  great  tenet, — that  "  in  Christ  all  are  to  be  made 
alive"  by  an  universal  resurrection  at  the  close  of  all  things, 
— has  had  two  classes  of  antagonists ;  some  of  whom  ex- 
plain away  the  first  words,  and  others  openly  reject  the 
last.  The  former  conceive  that  we  depreciate  the  natural 
proofs  of  the  soul's  immortality  by  ascribing  the  resurrec- 
tion to  the  work  of  Christ;  the  latter  that  the  resurrection 
of  which  we  speak  is  itself  absolutely  and  inherently  im- 
possible. 

But  it  must  be  noted,  that  in  attributing  the  future 
resurrection  to  Christ  we  in  no  wise  afiirm  that  the  soul  is 
naturally  fitted  to  perish  with  the  body.  We  do  not  even 
deny  that  in  a  being  gifted  with  reason  and  conscience 
there  are  strong  natural  presumptions  in  favor  of  a  future 
state.  The  amount  of  the  argument  antecedent  to  revela- 
tion is  just  this, — that  no  man  can  prove  that  the  soul  must 

8^ 


90  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [SERM.  V. 

perish  with  the  body,  and  that  there  are  strong  reasons  for 
anticipating  that  it  may  survive  it.  But  it  will  be  remem- 
bered that  the  resurrection  of  the  hody^  and,  above  all,  of  an 
immortal  body,  may  still  be  the  exclusive  result  of  the 
work  of  Christ,  as  well  as  the  perpetuation  of  the  soul  to 
immortality ;  for  it  does  not  readily  appear  that  its  mere 
survival  after  death  would  of  itself,  on  any  physical  or 
moral  ground,  necessitate  this.  But,  as  a  fuller  reply, — 
it  is  perfectly  conceivable  (though  many  seem  to  have 
missed  so  simple  a  thought)  that  the  soul  of  man  may  be 
naturally  capacitated  for  immortality,  and  yet  the  work  of 
Christ  be  absolutely  necessary  to  bring  that  capacity  into 
effect.  The  commonest  facts  of  nature  exhibit  to  us  sus- 
ceptibilities of  growth  and  perfection,  which  yet  are  never 
realized  without  some  further  condition.  Though  the 
germ  of  life  were  in  us,  something  beyond  itself  might  be 
required  to  fertilize  it.  The  criminal  sentenced  to  die  is 
capable  of  prolonged  life ;  were  he  not  thus  capable,  he 
could  not  live  though  reprieved  ;  yet  the  arrival  of  the 
reprieve  is,  under  the  established  laws,  the  necessary  con- 
dition of  his  continued  existence.  And  if  any  objector  go 
farther,  and  venture  the  wild  theory  of  the  soul's  necessary 
immortality,  we  may  reply,  that  the  same  scheme  of 
creation,  which  formed  souls  necessarily  immortal,  may 
have  required  the  death  and  resurrection  of  Christ  as  the 
sole  condition  of  forming  them  with  this  property  of  in- 
herent and  essential  eternity.  So  that  still,  though  exist- 
ing by  absolute  necessity,  in  Christ  alone  could  they  thus 
exist.  But  I  need  scarcely  remind  you  that  the  notion  is 
itself  absurd  of  any  created  thing  existing  for  a  single 
instant  by  any  title  but  the  will  of  its  Creator ;  that  all 
existence  must  be  purely  permissive  but  that  of  God ;  that 
nothing  can  be  essentially  eternal  for  the  future,  but  that 
which  has  been  eternal  from  the  past. 

The  other  class  of  objectors  are  those  who  pronounce  the 
recovery  of  the  earthly  body,  or  any  portion  of  it,  in  itself 


SERM.  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection,  91 

impossible.  It  assumes,  they  say,  new  forms ;  it  goes  to  the 
structure  of  other  beings,—  of  plants,  of  animals,  of  men, — 
how  then  shall  each  frame  be  gathered  back  and  appropri- 
ated to  its  owner? 

Those  who  think  this  difficulty  really  unanswerable  have 
but  to  conceive  the  resurrection  body  a  totally  new  organiz- 
ation, and  the  objection  at  once  disappears.  But  those 
who  consider  this  solution  an  evasion  of  the  Scripture  doc- 
trine, have  merely  to  reflect,  that  the  resurrection  of  the 
same  body  will  only  require  that  that  small  portion  of  the 
frame  which  is  essential  to  existence  at  any  period  of  our 
life  (for  the  body,  we  know,  is  in  incessant  change)  should  be 
preserved  for  each  individual,  and  attached  to  the  separated 
spirit.  The  whole  mass  of  material  necessary  for  this  pur- 
pose to  all  the  past  and  future  generations  of  mankind 
would  be  but  a  speck  upon  the  surface  of  the  globe.  It 
would  require  a  secret  arrangement  of  Providence  to  pre- 
vent a  confusion  of  the  portions  intended  for  each ;  but  it 
cannot  with  any  plausibility  be  pretended  that  the  forma- 
tion of  a  field  of  grass,  which  requires  much  the  same  accur- 
ate distribution  of  the  particles  of  matter,  is  not  a  diffiiculty 
to  the  divine  agent  as  insuperable  as  this.  The  simple 
fact  is,  that  if  we  admit  any  intelligent  contrivance  to 
govern  the  minute  processes  of  that  physical  creation,  we 
must  be  forced  to  admit  that  the  very  thing  we  here  pro- 
nounce impossible  takes  place  in  every  moment's  growth 
of  every  moss  and  flower  at  our  feet.  If  there  must  be 
some  reason  why  one  particle  is  preferred  to  another  in  form- 
ing the  animated  frame  of  a  human  being,  why  may  not 
this  be  a  reason  as  well  as  any  other  conceivable  ? 

I  mention  such  objections  as  these,  brethren,  not  that 
I  suppose  yon  to  have  been  really  disturbed  by  such  cavils, 
but  that  I  am  too  well  aware  that  imagination,  wayward 
on  all  subjects,  is  peculiarly  intrusive  and  dangerous  in 
everything  that  regards  this.  I  trust  and  believe  that  your 
own  hopes  are  fixed  upon  too  firm  a  ground  to  be  unset- 


92  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  [seem.  v. 

tied  by  any  of  these  impatient  questionings;  that  in  a 
matter  such  as  this  you  feel  that  if  He  alone  can  assure  us, 
yet  His  word  is  assurance  ample  and  sufficient,  who  came 
from  the  bosom  of  God  to  tell  us  the  wondrous  secret  of 
our  spiritual  and  bodily  immortality.  But  this  once  be- 
lieved, who  can  believe  it,  and  not  acknowledge  that  it 
alters  the  whole  complexion  of  his  existence ;  that  he  has 
sprung  with  one  bound  from  dust  to  angels ;  that  he  stands 
on  the  great  platform  of  immortal  natures,  can  see  below 
him  the  whole  universe,  above  him  nothing  but  his  God  ? 
Shall  we  not  then  awake,  and  know  ourselves  the  immortals 
that  we  are?  This  world  is  but  the  womb  of  eternity. 
The  Father,  who  has  regenerated,  has  regenerated  that  He 
may  immortalize.  Sooner  shall  he  yield  His  heavenly 
throne  than  hold  it  and  forsake  us ;  sooner  shall  God  be  no 
longer  God,  than  "  the  children  of  God"  fail  to  be  "  the 
children  of  the  resurrection."  Behold !  we  stand  alone  in 
creation ;  earth,  sea,  and  sky,  can  show  nothing  so  awful  as 
ive  are!  The  rooted  hills  shall  flee  before  the  fiery  glance 
of  the  Almighty  Judge ;  the  mountains  shall  become  dust, 
the  ocean  a  vapor ;  the  very  stars  of  heaven  shall  fade  and 
fall  as  the  fig-tree  casts  her  untimely  fruit !  yea,  "heaven 
and  earth  shall  pass  away:"  but  the  humblest,  poorest, 
lowliest  among  us  is  born  for  undying  life.  Amid  all  the 
terrors  of  dissolving  nature,  the  band  of  immortals  shall 
stand  before  their  Judge.  He  has  made  you  to  be  sharers 
of  His  own  eternity ;  the  most  incomprehensible  of  His 
attributes  is  permitted  in  its  measure  to  be  yours.  Alone 
in  a  world  of  weak  and  fading  forms, — with  all  perishable, 
even  to  the  inmost  folds  of  the  fleshly  garment  that  invests 
you, — with  the  very  beauty  of  nature  dependent  on  its 
revolutions,  its  order  the  order  of  successive  evanescence, 
its  constancy  the  constancy  of  change, — amid  all  this 
mournful  scenery  of  death  you  alone  are  deathless.  In  the 
lapse  of  millions  of  ages  hence,  for  aught  we  can  tell,  it  may 
be  the  purpose  of  God  that  all  this  outward  visible  universe 


SERM.  v.]  The  Power  of  the  Resurrection.  93 

shall  gradually  give  place  to  some  new  creation ;  that  other 
planets  shall  circle  other  suns ;  that  unheard-of  forms  of 
animated  existence  shall  crowd  all  the  chambers  of  the 
sensitive  universe  with  forms  of  life  unlike  all  that  we  can 
dream ;  that  in  slow  progression  the  immense  cycle  of  our 
present  system  of  nature  shall  at  length  expire : — but  even 
then  no  decay  shall  dare  to  touch  the  universe  of  souls. 
Even  then  there  shall  be  memories  in  heaven  that  shall 
speak  of  their  little  speck  of  earthly  existence  as  a  well- 
remembered  history ;  yea,  that  shall  anticipate  millions  of 
even  such  cycles  as  this,  as  not  consuming  even  the  first 
glorious  minute  of  the  everlasting  day  !  For  these  thi-ngs 
ye  are  born ;  unto  this  heritage  are  ye  redeemed.  Live, 
then,  as  citizens  of  the  immortal  empire.  Let  the  impress 
of  the  eternal  country  be  on  your  foreheads.  Let  the 
angels  see  that  you  know  yourselves  their  fellows.  Speak, 
think,  and  act,  as  beseems  your  high  ancestry;  for  your 
Father  is  in  heaven,  and  the  First-born  of  your  brethren  is 
on  the  throne  of  God.  Oh !  as  you  read  and  hear  of  these 
things,  strain  your  eyes  beyond  the  walls  of  this  dim  prison, 
and  catch  the  unearthly  light  of  that  spiritual  world  where 
the  perfected  Just  are  already  awaiting  your  arrival.  You 
go  now  to  celebrate  that  on  earth  which  is  nearest  heaven  ; 
to  receive  the  memorial  and  quickening  presence  of  "  Him 
who  was  dead,  and  behold  He  liveth  evermore."  You  go, 
as  it  were,  to  kneel  around  the  gate  of  Paradise,  longing 
for  the  time  when  the  portals  shall  unclose,  yet  humbly 
joyous  that  you  are  permitted  even  thus  to  wait.  Oh! 
may  the  Father  feed  you  with  the  bread  of  heaven,  which 
whoso  eateth  shall  live  for  ever ;  giving  you  life  in  giving 
you  Him  who  is  the  true  life ;  and  sowing  in  you  that  seed 
invisible  and  incorruptible,  whose  flower  is  the  beauty  of 
present  holiness,  whose  fruit  is  immortal  glory  I 


SERMON  VI. 

THE  TRINITY  DISCLOSED  IN"  THE   STRUCTURE  OF  ST   JOHN'S 
WRITINGS. 

(Preached  on  Trinity  Sunday.) 

These  are  written  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God. — John  xx.  31. 

In  these  words  the  Apostle  John  declares  the  main  ob- 
ject of  his  Gospel.  His  first  and  principal  Epistle  is  stated 
to  have  been  written  with  the  same  view,  expressed  in 
nearly  the  same  words :  "  These  things  have  I  written  nnto 
you  . . .  that  ye  may  believe  on  the  name  of  the  Son  of  God'''' 
(1  John  V.  13).  And  in  his  other  chief  contribution  to 
the  volume  of  inspiration,  his  Book  of  Prophecy,  where 
that  Son  of  God  liimself  stands  forward  in  his  own  awful 
personality,  the  similar  purpose  of  the  whole  is  scarcely 
less  distinctly  impressed.  The  one  solemn  proclamation 
begins  in  the  first  and  ends  in  the  last  chapter,  as  though 
it  were  the  key-note  of  the  entire, — "I  am  Alpha  and 
Omega,  the  first  and  the  last  I" — marking  the  sameness  of 
His  eternal  being  and  agency  through  the  long  succession 
of  revolutions  the  book  records,  and  in  this  brief  expres- 
sion of  the  divine  omnipotence  of  the  Messiah,  drawing,  as 
it  were,  the  moral  of  it  all.  The  Son  of  God,  then,  His 
everlasting  existence.  His  inherent  dignity.  His  unbounded 
power, — the  Son  of  God,  implying  in  the  term  a  nature 
which  was  one  with  God  (for  Christ  Himself  and  the  Jews, 


SEEM.  VI.]  The  Trinity  disclosed,  etc.  95 

uncontradicted  by  Christ,  identified  the  claim  of  a  divine 
Sonship  with  the  claim  of  a  divine  nature^), — the  Son  of 
God,  in  His  high  and  peculiar  relation  as  such,  is  the 
special  subject  which,  in  the  dispensation  of  the  Spirit,  seems 
to  have  been  eminently  committed  to  the  Evangelist  St 
John.  Through  the  other  Gospels  the  Saviour  moves  in 
the  mournful  majesty  of  Ilis  humiliation;  here,  though 
there  is  much  of  humiliation,  there  is  more  of  power:  they 
love  to  enlarge  on  His  blessed  relations  to  earth;  this 
-Apostle,  to  proclaim  his  mightier  relations  to  heaven.  As 
we  read  St  Matthew  or  St  Luke  we  might  at  times  forget 
that  in  the  humble  Teacher  of  Galilee  we  listen  to  the  awful 
sharer  of  the  divine  eternity:  with  St  John  the  manhood 
seems  almost  lost  in  the  fulness  of  the  God.  While  the 
Christ  of  his  pages  "  speaks  as  never  man  spake,"  we  feel 
as  if  the  words  alone  were  human  that  clothe  these  divine 
thoughts,  as  if  the  veil  of  our  adopted  nature  were  all  too 
feeble  to  hide  the  Deity  that  kindles  into  glory  behind  it. 
Jesus  of  Kazareth  is  the  speaker,  but  the  voice  is  charged 
with  the  echoes  of  eternity.  The  ear  may  catch  the  accents 
of  a  man,  but  the  awed  and  fearful  heart  is  listening  to 
"the  Word  of  God,"  who  is  "with  God"  and  "  is  God;"  to 
"  the  only-begotten  Son  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father ;" 
to  "  the  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  beginning  and  the  end- 
ing, which  is,  and  which  was,  and  which  is  to  come,  the 
Almighty!" 

In  this  remarkable  arrangement,  which  has  made  the 
last  of  the  Evangelists  the  most  explicit  unfolder  of  the 
whole  mystery  of  Christ's  essential  Godhead,  we  seem  to 
see  one  of  the  instances  of  that  law  of  progressive  revelation 
which  so  strikingly  marks  the  entire  construction  of  the 
Bible.  It  was,  perhaps,  expedient  that  the  Church  at  large 
should  be  trained  by  simple  faith  and  the  practice  of  His 
pure  and  beautiful  morality  into  fitness  for  the  more  trans- 

'  John  X.  33,  36. 


96  The  Trinity  disclosed  in  the  [SERM.  vi. 

cendent  truths  which  His  higher  discourses  involved.  She 
was  first  to  be  taught  habits  of  dependence,  humility,  sin- 
cerity, and  love ;  all  presupposing,  of  course,  a  general 
knowledge  of  the  facts  of  Christ's  divine  nature  and  earthly 
career,  but  resting,  as  yet,  for  their  ordinary  motive  and 
habitual  meditation,  less  upon  the  former  than  the  latter 
division  of  this  great  mystery ;  and  when  thus  practically 
versed  in  the  life  of  faith,  she  was  to  rise  into  the  more 
awful  region  of  spiritual  truth,  to  learn  a  profounder  lesson 
in  the  story  of  that  Being  with  whom  we  are  so  wondrously 
connected ;  to  be  taught  the  nature  and  depth  of  the  com- 
munion we  are  entitled  to  hold  through  Him  with  the  very 
source  of  life,  to  see  at  length  the  foundations  of  the 
Christian  temple  as  they  lie  deep  in  the  very  nature  of 
God,  and  to  find  every  ordinary  rule  and  maxim  of  the 
Faith  assume  a  yet  sublimer  character  when  viewed  as  all 
springing  from  the  tremendous  truth,  that  He  with  whom 
we  are  one  is  yet  more  deeply  one  with  God.  And  even 
though  this  master-truth  had  been  taught  as  frequently  as 
it  is  taught  really  and  unequivocally  by  St  Paul,  we  can 
easily  conceive  what  new  illumination  must  have  brightened 
round  it,  when,  in  addition  to  the  affirmations  of  His  dis- 
ciples, the  discourses  of  the  divine  personage  Himself  were 
given  to  the  Church ;  when  his  own  claims  were  heard 
transcribed  from  His  own  lips,  and  introduced  by  the  decla- 
ration,— the  clear,  simple,  undeniable  message  of  the  Holy 
Ghost, — that  the  Word  made  flesh  was  no  other  than  the 
very  and  eternal  God. 

But  in  thus  revealing,  in  all  its  fulness,  the  twofold  nature 
of  Christ — in  displaying  Him  (in  the  words  of  the  text),  as 
at  once  Jesus  in  His  manhood,  the  Son  of  God  in  His  deity, 
and  Christ  in  his  office  which  is  the  result  of  both, — other 
and  wider  truths  are  necessarily  involved.  The  nature  of 
Christ  is  a  point  from  which  a  far-stretching  view  opens 
into  the  whole  nature  of  God.  This  divine  Son  comes  from 
heaven  to  reveal  the  will  of  a   divine  Father;  and   He 


SEKM.  VI.]         Structure  of  St  Jvkn's  Writings.  97 

comes  empowered  and  qualified  by  a  divine  Spirit.  And 
thus  St  John,  in  being  the  preacher  of  the  deity  of  the 
Son,  becomes  inclusively  the  preacher  of  the  deity  of  the 
Father  and  the  Holy  Ghost.  It  will  now  be  ray  object  to 
exhibit  to  you  the  manner  in  which  this  great  doctrine  of 
the  threefold  God,  with  its  practical  relation  to  ourselves, 
forms  the  substance  of  the  writings  of  St  John ;  how  they 
seem  all  framed  in  it  as  in  a  mould ;  how  they  perpetually 
suppose  it,  not  alone  directly  (which  to  some  minds  would, 
perhaps,  be  less  impressive),  but  silently,  in  their  inmost 
structure,  and  in  a  way  which  could  not  be  interpolated 
unless  his  whole  writings  be  an  interpolation ;  and  thus  to 
manifest  the  profound  truth  of  the  text,  that  ''  these  things 
were"  indeed  "  written  that  ye  might  believe  that  Jesus  is 
the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God ;"  the  Son  of  God,  and  thence 
Himself  divine ;  the  Christ,  and  thence  the  anointed  of  a 
divine  Spirit. 

We  open,  then,  the  Gospel  of  St  John.  It  commences 
(as  you  all  remember)  with  a  solemn  exposition  of  the 
divinity  of  the  Word  and  Son  of  God,  considered  in  His 
immediate  relation  to  the  deity  of  the  Father^  and  as  com- 
missioned to  represent  His  unapproachable  glory  in  the 
world  of  time  and  sense.  It  is  "  the  glory  as  of  the  only- 
begotten  of  the  Father ;"  He  is  "  the  only-begotten  Son 
which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father,  and  hath  declared 
Him."  Here,  then,  are  two  persons  of  this  mysterious  con- 
junction ;  their  distinct  agency,  their  mutual  relation.  But 
in  the  influences  of  the  second  a  new  power  is  discovered, 
which  all  Scripture  assigns  to  a  third  agent;  "He  hath 
given  power  to  become  the  sons  of  God  to  them  which  are 
born  of  God ;"  the  same  gift  which  this  Apostle  elsewhere 
terms  being  "  born  of  the  Spirit,"  and  another  describes  as 
involving  "  the  Spirit  of  adoption."  And  thus,  in  this 
brief  preface,  the  Father,  the  Word  made  flesh,  the  inwork- 
ing  Spirit  proceeding  from  both,  are  shadowed  before  us  ; 
9 


98  The  Trinity  disclosed  in  the  [serm.  vi. 

the  opening  prologue  presents  a  summary  of  the  whole 
majestic  drama  which  follows. 

For,  this  being  solemnly  premised,  the  record  itself 
begins.  Now,  the  point  I  wish  you  to  observe  is,  the  dis- 
tribution of  the  doctrine  imparted  through  the  rest  of  this 
Gospel ;  the  very  divisions  of  the  subject  recognizing  the 
great  fundamental  truth  on  which  we  rest  this  day ;  and 
naturally  arising  in  a  mind  previously  impressed  with  this 
presiding  idea. 

The  divine  sovereignty  of  the  Father  being  everywhere 
understood,  Christ  presents  himself  to  enforce  His  own 
claims  as  the  Son  of  God,  through  nearly  the  entire  of 
twelve  or  thirteen  successive  chapters.  lie  is  now  the 
prominent  figure;  His  connection  with  the  Father;  His 
mysterious  prerogatives  thence  arising;  the  power  and 
glory  of  the  kingship  He  inherently  possesses  as  God,  and' 
has  won  to  Himself  as  man; — these  are  the  topics,  with 
scarcely  an  exception  (such  as  a  few  verses  of  the  discourse 
with  Nicodemus,  where  the  alteration  is  plainly  incidental), 
that  engage  the  recording  pen  of  the  Evangelist.  In  the 
fifth  and  sixth  chapters,  more  especially,  Christ  speaks  in  a 
tone  of  dignity  which  seems  to  centre  in  Himself  the  whole 
power  of  the  Godhead.  All  seems  (in  comparison)  to  dis- 
appear from  the  scene  except  the  Second  Person,  and  His 
claims  to  unbounded  fealty  as  the  sole  dispenser  of  every 
blessing  from  His  Father  to  man.  He  alone  is  visible 
between  us  and  heaven ;  in  Him  light,  and  life,  and  salva- 
tion ;  beyond  Him  clouds,  and  desolation,  and  darkness. 

At  length  the  hour  arrives  when  He  must  leave  the 
scene  He  had  so  long  almost  exclusively  occupied.  Accord- 
ingly, His  prominence  as  the  main  object  of  the  record 
gradually  lessens ;  but  exactly  in  proportion  as  it  lessens, 
a  new  occupant  fills  the  field  of  view.  Christ,  simply  as 
Christ,  is,  in  His  turn,  almost  lost  in  the  glory  of  "another 
Paraclete"  who  is  "to  abide"  with  the  Church  of  God 
"  for  ever."     Thenceforth  to  the  close  of  His  teaching,  it 


SEEM.  VI.]  Structure  of  St  John^s  Writings.  99 

is  this  Being  wlio  is  the  principal  object  disclosed  to  the 
spiritual  anticipation.  It  is  now  not  Christ  who  is  "  the 
truth,"  but  "the  Spirit  of  truth;"  it  is  not  Christ  now  who 
teacheth,  but  "  the  Comforter,  which  is  the  Holy  Ghost, 
He  shall  teach  you  all  things ;"  it  is  not  Christ  now  who 
testifieth,  but  "the  Comforter  shall  testify  of  me;"  it  is 
not  Christ  now  who  reproveth  the  world,  but  "  the  Com- 
forter," who  "  will  reprove  the  world  of  sin,  and  of 
righteousness,  and  of  judgment."  In  this  portion  of  the 
book,  exactly  where  the  harmony  of  the  doctrine  would 
lead  us  to  expect  it,  everything  contributes  to  impress  that 
this  Being,  working  conjointly  with  tlie  Father  and  the 
Son,  is  also  to  take  rank  with  them  as  a  distinct  object  of 
Christian  knowledge  and  Christian  devotion.  And  thus 
the  threefold  agency  of  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost — of 
the  Father  made  known  in  the  Son,  and  with  the  Son  ope- 
rative in  the  Holy  Spirit, — forms  the  common  plan  and 
directs  the  successive  topics  of  the  whole. 

We  saw  how  the  opening  verses  presented  all  this,  as 
it  were,  in  miniature;  let  us  contemplate  it  once  more 
reproduced  at  the  close.  The  entire  exhibition  of  divine 
love,  as  wrought  by  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  concludes 
with  that  sublime  series  of  petitions  which  occupies  the 
seventeenth  chapter,  and  which,  in  the  very  objects  for 
which  it  supplicates,  paints  the  Church  as  its  founder 
would  have  it  in  doctrine  and  in  life.  Now  observe  how 
this  also  recognizes  in  its  internal  structure,  the  same 
threefold  division  of  operations.  It  opens — ^^Fatlier^  glo- 
rify thy  Son^  that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  thee !" — and 
continues  to  represent  before  the  throne  of  the  Father  the 
work  of  the  Son  as  manifesting  Him  in  the  world  to  those 
whom  the  Father  had  given  to  be  the  subjects  of  this  won- 
drous disclosure.  Still  the  prayer  is  incomplete  without 
another  agency  working  for  its  own  peculiar  end;  and 
hence,  as  the  petition  advances,  the  transition  exactly  par- 
allel  to  that  in  the  body  of  the  Gospel,  ^^ sanctify  them 


100  The  Trinity  disclosed  in  the  [seem.  VI. 

througli  thy  trutli". .  ."for  their  sakes  I  sanctify  myself, 
that  they  also  might  be  sanctified  through  the  truth :" — a 
form  of  expression  which  I  need  not  tell  you  is  (and  in 
the  original'  much  more  emphatically)  appropriated  with 
almost  technical  regularity  to  the  Spirit  of  holiness  or 
sanctification.  But  it  is  fitting  that  this  diversity  of  opera- 
tions, which  thus  forms  the  subject  of  this  Gospel,  should 
be  re-united  before  its  succession  of  discourses  is  closed. 
And  this,  too,  is  done.  Our  Lord  is  engaged  in  prayer,  in 
prayer  for  His  Church ;  and,  therefore,  having  to  speak  of 
the  mystical  bond  that  unites  Him  with  His  Father,  He 
contemplates  its  image  in  the  Church,  and  prays  that  that 
image  may  be  clear,  and  vivid,  and  complete.  (We,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  beholding  the  image,  rise  to  the  divine  ori- 
ginal.) "  That  they  all"  (doubtless  through  "  the  fellowship 
of  the  Holy  Ghost")  "  may  be  one,  as  thou.  Father,  art  in 
me,  and  I  in  thee ;  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us :  ...  . 
that  they  may  be  one  even  as  we  are  one :  I  in  them,  and 
thou  in  me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one."  This, 
the  transcendent  oneness  of  the  Father  and  Son  above,  in 
the  unity  of  the  same  Spirit,  with  the  implored  oneness  of 
the  Church  below,  its  earthly  counterpart,  and  wrought  by 
the  same  power,  this  forms  the  natural  termination  and 
summary  of  the  entire. 

Now  I  do  not  mean  to  affirm  that  such  a  distribution 
of  the  subject  as  this,  though  I  think  it  undeniable  as  a 
fact,  is  of  itself  an  unanswerable  proof,  or  even  a  direct 
proof  in  any  degree,  that  St  John  held  the  doctrine  of  the 
triple  Godhead  as  we  hold  and  preach  it.  But  those  who 
know  the  value  of  any  addition  to  a  cumulation  of  proba- 
bilities will  not  be  inclined  to  dismiss  it  on  that  account ; 
they  will  consider  it  only  the  more  forcible  in  proportion 
as  it  is  more  indirect  and  circuitous.  The  question  is, 
supposing  St  John  to  have  held  the  doctrine,  and  to  have 


SERM.  VT.]  Structure  of  Si  John's  Writings.  101 

written,  as  the  text  affirms  lie  did,  to  prove  Christ  the 
Son  of  God,  whether  this  is  not  the  very  disposition  of 
doctrine  the  subject  would  naturally  have  assumed  under 
his  hand ;  whether  there  is  not  discernible  proof,  even  in 
what  has  been  here  offered,  to  show  that  some  governing 
idea,  which,  whether  he  would  have  expressed  it  as  we  do 
or  not,  was  substantially  the  same  as  ours,  really  presided 
over  the  whole  scope  and  arrangement  of  his  divine  com- 
position. 

Any  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  the  foct  alleged  will 
probably  be  removed  by  an  appeal  to  the  next  of  his 
writings  in  the  order  of  the  Canon,  his  first  or  Catholic 
Epistle. 

Here,  again,  the  Word  of  life  and  His  manifestation 
of  the  invisible  Father  opens  the  treatise ;  and,  as  usual, 
the  practical  correlative  of  the  doctrine  follows,  that  "  our 
fellowship  is  with  the  Father  and  the  Son."  The  second 
and  third  chapters,  so  far  as  they  are  at  all  doctrinal, 
continue  the  thenjc.  It  is  still,  "  Who  is  a  liar  but  he  that 
denieth  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ?  He  is  Antichrist  that 
denieth  the  Father  and  the  Son  ;  whosoever  denieth  the 
Son,  the  same  hath  not  the  Father."  It  is  still,  in  practical 
application,  as  before  in  the  opening  of  his  Gospel,  that 
we  in  Christ  "  are  called  the  sons  of  God."  It  is  still  that 
"this  is  His  commandment,  that  we  should  believe  on 
the  name  of  His  Son  Jesus  Christ."  But  in  a  manner 
altogether  remarkable,  at  the  end  of  the  third  chapter  a 
sudden  transition  is  made,  which  is,  more  or  less,  preserved 
to  the  end  :  "  hereby  we  know  that  He  abideth  in  us,  by 
the  Spirit  which  He  hath  given  us."  "Beloved,"  he 
continues,  "  try  the  spirits  whether  they  are  of  God." 
"  Hereby  know  ye  the  Spirit  of  God."  "  We  dwell  in 
Him  and  He  in  us,  because  He  hath  given  ns  of  His 
Spirit."  The  former  subject  is  never  suspended,  indeed ; 
but  the  leading  topic,  palpably,  becomes  the  blessings  and 
the  evidences  of  this  other  agent,  the  work  of  Christ  being 

9^ 


102  The  Trinity  disclosed  in  the  [seem.  VI. 

now  regarded  chiefly  as  it  is  the  subject  of  the  Spirit's 
teaching.  For  "it  is  the  Spirit  that  beareth  witness, 
because  the  Spirit  is  truth."  If  the  text  of  the  three 
witnesses  in  heaven  be  genuine  (and  it  certainly  ought  to 
receive  its  measure  of.  probability),  I  need  scarcely  observe 
with  what  admirable  fitness  it  seems  to  recapitulate  and 
embody  the  whole;  but  whether  it  be  received  or  not, 
the  main  point  is  secured  in  the  closing  admonition  of 
St  John,  where,  expressly  warning  his  "little  children" 
to  "keep  themselves  from  idols,"  he  yet  unequivocally 
declares  that  this  Jesus  is  "  the  true  God  and  eternal  life." 

In  this  Epistle,  then,  it  seems  quite  manifest  (and  I  be- 
lieve the  more  minutely  you  examine,  the  more  clearly 
you  will  perceive  the  reality  of  this  reniarkable  structure) 
that  the  order  of  the  subject  does  by  natural  inward  sequence 
proceed  on  the  very  distinction  we  recognize ;  that  the  sig- 
nature of  the  threefold  God  is  not  merely  wrought  into 
spots  and  corners  of  the  texture,  but  broadly  impressed 
upon  the  whole  web  ;  in  other  words,  that  this  Epistle  and 
this  Gospel  are  alike  moulded  as  they  would  have  been  by 
an  inspired  Athanasius  or  Basil,  in  whose  minds  the  body 
of  Christian  doctrine  was  habitually  viewed  under  a  Trini- 
tarian distribution. 

Of  the  other  great  work  of  St  John,  the  Book  of  the 
Kevelation,  I  conceive  that  this  same  understood  truth 
forms  the  framework,  in  a  manner  which  not  only  discovers 
the  doctrine  of  a  triplicity  of  Persons,  but  does  unanswer- 
ably demonstrate  the  author's  belief  that  the  Three  are 
equally  divine,  mysteriously  blended  in  the  same  unfathom- 
able unity. 

I  say,  then,  that  this  Book  of  Revelation  is  in  its  main 
features  nothing  less  than  a  history,  a  symbolical  history 
of  the  Trinity  in  its  relation  to  the  Church  of  Christ. 
The  mysterious  darkness  of  the  prophecy  cannot  hide  the 
order  and  disposition  of  the  book,  to  which  alone  I  appeal. 
Whatever  in  this  wondrous  record  is  obscure,  this  at  least 


SERM.  VL]  Structure  of  StJohn's  Writings.  103 

is  clear  enoiigli ;  tliis  at  least,  humbly  and  patiently  medi- 
tated, may  win  the  blessing  its  last  chapter  promises  to  him 
"  who  keepeth  the  sayings  of  the  prophecy  of  this  book." 
I  shall  be  brief  and  summary  as  the  time  demands. 

At  the  very  opening,  and  forming  the  significant  intro- 
duction of  the  whole,  the  usual  apostolic  prayer  of  grace 
and  peace  is  solemnly  uttered  in  the  name  of  the  three 
divine  Persons  (i.  4,  5) ;  and  with  a  vision  of  the  Three  (as 
I  shall  presently  observe)  it  closes.  Omitting  the  second 
and  third  chapters,  which  detach  from  the  main  subject, 
the  heavenly  scenery  opens  in  the  fourth  chapter,  which 
you  heard  read  this  day,  and  which  is  one  unbroken  picture 
of  the  pure  Deity;  the  eternal  Father  made  manifest  in  the 
eternal  World,  and  operating  (ver.  5)  by  the  energies  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  Hence  the  three  adoring  "  holies"  of  the 
eighth  verse ;  and  the  declaration  that  the  Being  enthroned 
is  one  who  "  was,  and  is,  and  is  to  come"  [the  eternal  Fa- 
ther, the  abiding  Spirit,  the  future  Son  of  man  in  judgment.] 
In  the  next  chapter  (the  fifth)  a  form  altogether  distinct  in 
aspect  is  unveiled  to  adoration  ;  the  throne  is  not,  however, 
yet  styled  "  His ;"  He  is  "  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,"  and 
His  appearance  is  "  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain ;"  while 
the  Holy  Ghost  (or  "  seven  spirits"  of  the  former  vision)  is 
now  represented  as  the  "seven  eyes"  of  the  Lamb;  thereby 
being  shadowed  the  immediate  re-issuing  of  this  divine 
essence  from  the  incarnate  Son.  This,  then  (as  all  will 
admit),  is  Christ  Jesus  after  His  sacrifice;  and  in  that 
capacity  (ver.  8)  the  same  beings  who  adored  the  pure 
Godhead  in  the  preceding  chapter  are  now  in  the  very 
same  words  represented  as  adoring  the  Lamb ;  before, — 
God  for  creation,  now  Christ  for  redemption, — the  number 
of  the  worshippers  being  even  increased  (ver.  11),  and  the 
hymn  loftier  and  more  impassioned  (ver.  12).  At  this 
point  of  the  history  "  the  Lamb"  becomes  alone  the  divine 
hero  of  the  narrative ;  and  in  order  to  particularize  His 
achievements  as  such.  He  is  purposely,  through  the  body 


104  Tlie  Trinity  disclosed  in  the  [SERM.  VI. 

of  the  record,  detached  from  the  pure  Godhead :  it  is 
"  salvation  to  our  God  which  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and 
unto  the  Lamb ;"  it  is  a  Lamb  alone  "  upon  Mount  Sion." 
The  human  and  mediatorial  character  is  specially  presented 
all  through ;  because  it  is  in  that  character  specially  that 
Christ's  wonders  in  the  Church  are  wrought.  At  length, 
after  a  long  series  of  marvels,  in  the  nineteenth  chapter,  as 
the  closing  fulfilment  approaches  its  crisis,  He  meets  us 
(ver.  13)  as  the  "  Word  of  God,"  the  exclusive  title  of  His 
divinity  ;  as  if  to  mark  that  the  Godhead  was  again  gaining 
the  pre-eminence.  In  the  twentieth,  after  having  been  for 
a  while  known  as  "  Christ"  (the  blessed  title  which  unites 
Him,  through  the  mystery  of  mercy,  in  His  double  nature, 
to  man),  the  grand  consummation  arrives, — the  final  judg- 
ment. One  sits  upon  a  great  white  throne,  "  from  whose 
face  the  earth  and  heaven  flee  away  ;"  Christ  himself  shall 
tell  us  who  this  is:  "the  Father  hath  committed  all  judg- 
ment unto  the  Son^  After  this  event,  in  the  world  of  purity 
and  perfection  that  follows,  a  remarkable  change  of  phrase 
is  observable.  There  being  no  longer  any  need  of  separa- 
tion between  the  characters  of  the  pure  Godhead  and  of 
the  incarnate  Christ,  they  are  in  every  sentence  united ; 
they  are  given  the  same  office,  the  same  dignity,  the  same 
efiicacy  in  sending  the  blessed  influences  of  the  Spirit. 
The  throne  is  now  "  the  throne  of  God  and  of  the  Lamb ;" 
God  and  the  Lamb  are  equally  the  light  of  heaven  ;  God 
and  the  Lamb  are  equally  its  temple.  But,  which  is  pecu- 
liarly observable,  before  the  majestic  close  of  all  in  the 
unfathomable  depths  of  eternity,  an  identification  more 
absolute  still  is  insinuated.  To  catch  the  force  of  this  I 
must  direct  you  to  the  beginning  of  the  twenty-second 
chapter,  and  to  the  four  verses  that  immediately  follow  it. 
In  the  first,  God  and  the  Lamb  are  enthroned  in  one  dig- 
nity ;  and  the  efiicacy  of  the  Spirit,  symbolized  by  the 
water  of  life  that  proceeds  out  of  the  throne,  issues  from  a 
common  tlirone  to  nourish  and  fertilize  the  tree  of  immor- 


SERM.  VI.]         Structure  of  St  Johii's  Writmgs.  105 

tality.  In  the  third  verse  they  are  both  again  mentioned, 
but  both  identified;  for  the  expressions,  "His  servants 
shall  serve  Jlim,^^  "  they  shall  see  His  face,"  &c.,  are  mani- 
festly referable  to  both  as  one.  And  in  the  fifth  verse 
(which  ends  the  entire,  for  the  rest  of  the  chapter  is  a 
mere  epigraph  of  general  exhortations  and  promises),  "  the 
Lamb,"  who  had  preserved  His  position  all  through,  is 
omitted  ;  He  vanishes, — not  realhj,  for  "  He  must  reign  for 
ever  and  ever," — but  He  vanishes  out  of  the  vision,  in  order 
to  represent  Him  as  in  a  manner  merged  in  the  Godhead  ; 
"  the  Lord  Grod"  being  now  declared  to  effect  alone  that  very 
blessing  which  "the  Lord  God  and  the  Lamb"  were  to  effect  a 
few  verses  above  (xxi.  23).  And  in  this  state  the  whole  won- 
drous vision  disappears  into  eternity !  What  shall  we  say, 
brethren  ?  Is  all  this  without  a  purport  ?  Was  all  this 
arranged  without  any  intended  significance  ?  Is  not  the 
whole  series,  and  especially  this  most  remarkable  conclu- 
sion, an  accurate  representation  of  the  entire  awful  mystery 
of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  in  those  very  charac- 
ters which  the  Church  presents  to  your  adoring  faith  ? 
First,  alone  in  the  eternal  solitude  of  incommunicable 
glory;  then  separated,  for  the  Son's  incarnate  w^ork  of 
redemption,  a  work  of  many  ages ;  then,  as  it  were,  recom- 
bining  after  the  mighty  task  has  been  completed,  when 
God,  as  St  Paul  reveals,  becomes  once  more  "  all  in  all," 
the  mediator,  subject,  and  the  kingdom  delivered  up ;  God, 
as  God,  effusing  a  light  neither  of  the  sun  nor  of  the  moon, 
but  of  His  own  vitalizing  Spirit,  into  the  millions  of  wor- 
shipping saints  around  Him ;  "  for  the  Lord  God  giveth 
them  lirfht,  and  they  shall  reign  for  ever  and  ever." 

We  have  now  reviewed  the  three  chief  writings  of  the 
Apostle  John.  We  have  seen  how  the  great  article  of 
faith  which  the  Church  commemorates  this  day  pervades 
his  works,  not  only  as  a  separate  truth,  but  as  a  presiding 
principle ;  not  only  in  the  phraseology  of  the  parts,  but  in 
the  structure  of  the  whole.     We  sec  that  to  him  the  three- 


106  The  Trmitij  disclosed  in  the  [SERM.  VI. 

fold  activity  of  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  was  indeed  the 
abstract  of  theology ;  that,  therefore,  this  Trinity  of  powers, 
or  principles,  or  persons,  or  whatever  other  name  be  em- 
ployed to  denote  what  no  human  language  can  fully  express, 
was  not  (as  some  worthy  men  represent  it)  the  justifiable 
induction  of  later  times,  but  the  very  and  original  form  in 
which  the  doctrine  itself  reposed  in  the  intellect  and  heart 
of  the  Evangelist.  We  see  it  here,  not  in  the  minuteness 
of  special  passages  only,  but  in  the  magnitude  of  universal 
effects  also.  It  is  a  plastic  power  working  the  whole  mass 
of  the  composition  to  its  own  peculiar  type ;  somewhat  as 
the  vital  principle  of  an  organized  frame  silently  gathers 
the  entire  aggregate  of  particles  into  the  definite  form 
appropriate  to  itself.  The  Bible  is  a  kind  of  shrine  or 
temple  in  which  the  Spirit  of  God  dwells  among  us.  Now,- 
let  us  suppose  a  stranger  from  some  Pagan  land  to  enter 
an  old  Christian  cathedral,  and  to  behold,  among  other 
things,  the  figure  of  a  cross  constantly  recurring  in  the 
sculptured  work  of  the  building.  His  conclusion  would 
naturally  be  that  this  figure  had  some  remarkable  relation 
to  the  peculiar  religious  system  to  which  the  edifice  was 
appropriated.  But  how  much  stronger  would  be  this  con- 
clusion if  in  addition  he  discovered,  on  standing  at  a  height 
and  distance  such  as  should  allow  the  ivhole  to  be  seen  at  a 
glance,  that  the  entire  magnificent  structure  was  itself  built 
in  the  form  of  a  cross ;  and  not  one  structure  alone,  but 
several  of  those  which  he  had  the  opportunity  of  examining. 
The  design  of  the  builder,  he  could  say,  might  in  the  one 
case,  however  unlikely  the  supposition,  be  counterworked 
by  the  unauthorized  insertions  of  subsequent  architects; 
but  no  such  intrusion,  however  audacious  or  extensive, 
could  reach  to  changing  the  whole  plan  of  the  fabric ;  and 
if  the  proof  be  indeed  unquestionable,  that  the  main  walls 
and  their  foundations  are  the  authentic  work  of  antiquity, 
in  that  antiquity  the  idea  that  directed  their  plan  must 
share.     If,  then,  these  edifices  of  immortal  truth,  this  Gos- 


SEEM.  VI.]  Stmchcre  of  St  John's  Wriimjs.  107 

pel,  this  Epistle,  this  Book  of  Prophecy,  be  indeed  ancient 
and  inspired  ;  the  great  predominating  thought  that  fixed 
their  plan  and  distribution  must  be  ancient  and  inspired  too. 
I  shall  but  add,  that  in  thus  making  this  threefold  dis- 
tinction the  basis  of  his  whole  scheme  of  instruction,  St 
John  has  taught  you  not  only  its  absolute  truth  but  its 
relative  importance.  Learning  from  him  "  the  proportion 
of  the  faith,"  we  will  safely  value  that  most,  which  he 
thought  most  precious.  If,  under  those  brief  but  wondrous 
words, — Father,  Son,  and  Spirit, — he  was  accustomed  to 
classify  all  the  bright  treasures  of  his  inspiration;  if  into 
this  mould  every  narrative,  every  exhortation  naturally 
flowed  ;  if  he  was  wont  to  see,  in  the  adoration  that  bowed 
before  this  mysterious  Triad  of  eternal  powers,  the  last  and 
loftiest  act  of  religion,  the  sum  and  abstract  of  all  the  rest; 
we  cannot  be  wrong  in  preserving  the  equilibrium  that  he 
has  fixed.  And  if,  too,  to  him  this  great  belief  was  more 
than  belief,  this  "light"  was  also  "life;"  if  he  could  feel  it 
blessed  to  acknowledge  a  Father  who  is  our  Father,  a  Son 
in  whom  we  also  "  are  called  the  sons  of  God,"  a  Holy 
Spirit  who  "  dwelleth  with  us  and  shall  be  in  us ;"  may  we 
also  find  in  the  Tkinity  the  ground  of  practical  devotion, 
pure  and  deep,  till,  quickened  by  the  power  of  this  faith, 
the  Three  that  bear  record  in  heaven  shall  bear  their 
witness  in  our  hearts ;  and  the  trinity  shall  have  become, 
not  the  cold  conclusion  of  the  intellect,  but  the  priceless 
treasure  of  the  affections,  the  blessed  foundation  and  the 
perpetual  strength  of  the  new  and  spiritual  life  I 


SEEMON  VII. 

MEETNESS  FOR  THE   INHERITANCE   OF   THE   SAINTS 
IN  LIGHT. 

(Epistle,  24th  Sunday  after  Trinity.) 

Giving  thanks  unto  the  Father,  which  hath  made  us  meet  to  be  partakers  of  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light. — Colossians  i.  12. 

It  is  the  special  glory  of  the  Gospel,  the  foundation  or 
the  perfection  of  all  the  rest,  that  it  first  truly  and  dis- 
tinctly, in  language  beyond  the  uncertainties  of  conjecture, 
the  refinements  of  allegory,  or  even  the  bright  coloring  of 
hope,  enlarged  the  prospects  of  men  into  the  depths  of 
eternity.  It  first  clearly  and  authoritatively  taught  us  that 
the  present  existence  is  the  least  and  meanest  portion  of 
our  inheritance,  and  death  to  the  undying  spirit  only  the 
birth-day  of  immortal  life.  From  the  hour  that  this  awful 
and  glorious  secret  was  revealed  to  the  sons  of  men,  the 
whole  science  of  life  was  for  ever  changed ;  a  new  element 
entered  into  calculation  that  transformed  all  the  rest.  Had 
revelation  never  taught  us  so,  surely  this  must  be  still  self- 
evident.  From  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  a  dying  and  a 
deathless  being  must  move  in  different  orbits,  must  revolve 
on  different  centres,  must  obey  different  attractions.  A 
dying  body  is  adapted  to  the  world  of  sense  and  time,  a 
deathless  spirit  is  meant  and  made  for  a  world  immortal  as 
itself.  Created  eternal,  it  is  intended,  from  the  instant  of 
its  birth  to  breathe  the  air  of  eternity.     It  is  at  home  only 


SERM.  VII.]     Meetnessfor  the  Inheniance  of  Sainis,  etc.       109 

in  its  own  high  sphere  of  being ;  connected  by  a  visible 
frame  with  the  present  Avorld,  it  is  itself  invisible,  and 
lives  by  the  Invisible.  Through  its  own  proper  organs, — 
through  Faith,  and  Hope,  and  Love  divine, — it  already 
commerces  with  that  eternal  scene,  and  the  God  of  that 
eternal  scene,  where  hereafter,  disburdened  of  its  earthly 
fetters,  it  is  to  dwell  and  to  rejoice  for  everlasting. 

This,  then,  is  the  great  truth  implied  in  the  text,  implied 
more  or  less  directly  in  every  part  of  the  teaching  of  the 
Kew  Testament.  This — that  the  life  for  eternity  is  alreadij 
begun ;  that  we  are  at,  and  from  the  very  hour  of  our 
regeneration,  introduced  into  the  spiritual  world — a  world 
which,  though  mysterious  and  invisible,  is  as  real  as  the 
world  of  sense  around  us;  that  the  Christian's  life  of 
heavenliness  is  the  first  stage  of  heaven  itself!  "The 
Father,"  saith  the  Apostle,  "  hath  (already  supernaturally) 
made  us  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints."  The 
doctrine  of  the  New  Testament  is  not  that  men,  now  wholly 
mortal,  wholly  perishable,  shall  hereafter,  in  reward  of 
fidelity,  be  miraculously  raised  to  die  no  more,  but  that 
Christian  men  are  already  in  a  true,  though  most  mysteri- 
ous sense,  raised  with  Christ  Jesus  and  set  in  heavenly 
places  in  Him ;  that  they  are  now  virtually  in  the  very 
presence  and  kingdom  of  God ;  that  they  already  possess 
the  seed  of  immortality;  that  "he  that  hath  the  Son  hath 
life ;"  that  that  life  is  now  "  hid  with  Christ  in  God,"  to 
be, — not  created  as  out  of  nothing,  but, — manifested,  when 
He  "shall  be  manifested"  in  glory.  Hear  again  the  same 
Apostle :  "  If  the  Spirit  of  Him  that  raised  up  Jesus  from 
the  dead  [now]  dwell  in  you,  He  that  raised  up  Christ  shall 
also  quicken  your  mortal  bodies  hij  His  [iioiv]  indicelling 
SpiritP  In  other  words,  there  is  a  power  now  within  you 
in  the  germ,  of  which  your  celestial  immortality  shall  be 
the  proper  fruit.  The  dawn  of  heaven  hath  already  begun 
in  all  who  are  yet  to  rejoice  in  its  noontide  glory. 

No  thought  surely  can  be  more  awakening  than  this; 
10 


110  Meetnessfor  the  Inheritance  [serm.  vii. 

none  of  more  urgent  and  immediate  practical  importance. 
Christianity  is  but  half  unfolded  to  us  without  this  doctrine 
of  the  present  indwelling  of  the  powers  of  the  world  to 
come.     That  men    shall,  on   the   last   day,  be  judged  by 
divine  justice,  accepted  by  divine  mercy,  according  to  the 
deeds  of  their  earthly  life,  is  itself  a  great  and  impressive 
truth.     But  that  this  judgment  should  itself  be  blended  with 
another  equally  certain  principle  of  qualification;  that  the 
heaven  which  is  to  come  must  have  already  spiritually 
arisen  within  us,  and  the  future  glory  be  thus  enclosed  in 
the  present  grace; — that,  therefore,  men  must  not  only  win 
heaven  as  a  reward,  but  be  suited  for  heaven  as  a  life;  that 
the  divine  principle  now  within  them  must  have  fitted  them 
for  the  avocations  of  that  better  world,  moulded  them  to  the 
tempers  of  angels,  exercised  them  in  the  rudiments  of  that 
high  profession  of  joyful  obedience  and  adoring  homage 
which  is  to  make  the  occupation  of  their  eternity, — this  is 
♦yet  more   impressive   and   alarming, — because,  whatever 
delusion  may  be  possible  in  the  former  case,  it  is  scarcely 
conceivable  in  this.     Men  may  forget  their  past  sins,  but 
they  can  hardly  be  ignorant  of  their  present  disposition. 
They  may  reckon  on  easy  pardon,  but  they  cannot  suppress 
horror  and  dismay,  if  they  be  but  once  brought  to  reflect, — 
that  pardon  itself,  were  it  possible,  would  be  vain  as  long 
as  the  pardoned  sinner  were  unfit  for  the  society  of  heaven  ; 
that  God's  own  love  were  fruitless,  could  the  object  of  it 
continue  to  hate  his  God  I     Such  a  pardon  could  but  aggra- 
vate  the   keen  sense   of   hopeless,   irremediable    misery. 
"What  would  it  avail  that  the  man  should  be  accepted  to 
justification,  as  long  as   the   miserable   object   of  pardon 
shrank  cowering  from   the   circles  of  angels,  unable   to 
sympathize  in  their  fervors,  or  find  in  his  heart  one  echo 
to  their  celestial  anthems?     No:  what  we  are  to  be  in 
heaven  we  must  be  on  earth;  this  is  a  test  that  cannot  be 
mistaken   or   evaded.     We   are   saved   that  we   may  for 
eternity  serve   God;  salvation    itself  would   be  misery  if 


SEEM.  VII.]  of  the  Saints  in  Li(jht.  Ill 

unaccompanied  by  a  love  for  tliat  service.  All  aspirations 
for  salvation,  tlien,  are  vain  in  whicb.  that  love  forms  no 
element ;  all  desire  for  pardon  is  self-contradictory  if  it  do 
not  include  an  earnest  present  desire  for  that  enjoyment 
and  that  service  of  God  which  are  to  form  the  sequel  and 
the  value  of  the  pardon. 

Let  me  now  hope  that  you  have  fully  entered  into  the 
force  of  the  memorable  passage  before  us.  We  are  under 
a  course  of  education  for  heaven  ;  the  life  of  heaven  must 
then  be  practised  on  earth,  if  the  child  of  God  will  learn 
his  profession  for  eternity.  The  ordinary  process  must, 
therefore,  be  reversed.  Instead  of  estimating  heaven  by 
earth,  we  are  bound  to  estimate  and  govern  earth  by 
heaven.  There  is  the  pattern  in  the  mount  of  God;  there 
is  the  mighty  model  on  which  we  are  to  reconstruct  our 
nature ;  there  dwells  that  central  form  of  moral  and  spirit- 
ual beauty,  of  which  our  life  is  to  be  the  transcript.  New- 
born to  heaven,  heaven  must  become  our  test  and  standard 
of  every  motive,  word,  and  work.  The  life  for  which  we 
prepare,  the  inheritance  for  which  we  are  made  meet,  is  to 
determine  and  regulate  the  whole  course  of  our  present 
existence. 

But  here  arises  a  difficulty.  Heaven  is  our  pattern  ;  but 
of  heaven  we  surely  can  know  little.  We  are  taught  that 
the  heart  of  man  cannot  reach  the  conception  of  that  abode 
of  blessedness.  How  then  shall  we  regulate  our  life  by  an 
unknown  model  ?  How  shall  we  see  by  a  light  which  is 
itself  invisible  ? 

An  obvious  distinction  solves  this  difficulty,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  opens  the  way  for  that  very  simple  and  practi- 
cal view  of  the  subject  with  which  I  desire  to  engage  you. 
The  details  of  the  celestial  life  we  cannot  indeed  know. 
The  abode  in  which  we  are  to  dwell,  the  companions  with 
Avhom  we  shall  rejoice,  the  bodies, — bright  similitudes  of 
Christ, — which  we  are  to  wear, — all  these,  and  the  like,  are 
matters  beyond  our  limited  conjecture.     But  then  it  is  not 


112  Meetnessfor  iJie  Inheritance  [SERM.  VII. 

in  these  tilings  that  we  are  bound  to  practise  the  celestial 
life  on  eartli ;  for  no  man  is  bound  to  the  impossible.  The 
principles  of  that  life, — the  great  general  laws  of  heart  and 
spirit  that  govern  it, — these  it  is  that  are  to  be  the  princi- 
ples and  laws  of  this,  and  these  are  clear  and  indisputable. 
So  clear,  indeed,  and  so  indisputable,  that  the  slightest  ex- 
ercise of  reflection  will  show  you  how  there  is  nothing . 
overstrained  or  romantic  in  thus,  with  St  Paul,  making  the 
future  life  of  heaven  the  object  and  the  model  of  the  pre- 
sent heavenly  life.  And  the  more  completely  to  disentan- 
gle the  subject  of  all  complication,  I  shall  confine  myself 
to  a  single  and  most  simple  aspect  of  it. 

The  business  and  the  beatitude  of  heaven  must  consist 
in  conformity  of  the  will  to  the  will  of  God.  From  the 
very  nature  of  the  case  it  cannot  be  otherwise.  Here  He 
is  the  real,  in  heaven  He  must  be  also  the  acknowledged 
sovereign.  The  office  of  his  creatures  must  there  be  to  do 
His  work,  and  that  office  can  be  happiness  only  in  so  far 
as  His  work  is  to  them  delightful.  The  love  of  God,  the 
willino;  submission  of  the  whole  nature  to  Him,  which  is 
here  a  duty,  is  there  an  essential  of  existence.  To  be  there 
and  not  possess  it  would  be  to  be  locally  present  in  heaven, 
spiritually  absent  from  it, — to  live  visibly  with  angels,  to 
abide  invisibly  with  fiends  in  torment. 

By  our  principle,  then,  if  this  be  the  great  characteristic 
of  heaven,  it  must  be  equally  the  law  of  earth.  Mark, 
therefore,  the  specific  nature  of  the  motive  on  which  we 
insist,  and  distinguish  it  carefully  from  all  other  principles 
that  may  counterfeit  it,  or  in  their  operation  accidentally 
coincide  with  it.  The  habit  must  be  ours,  not  merely  of 
acting  from  higher  principles  than  self-interest  or  grosser 
passion,  but  of  acting  simply,  directly,  and  exclusively 
from  obedience  to  the  known  appointment  of  God.  No 
other  motive  can  be  tolerated  as  the  leading  principle  in 
heaven ;  no  other,  then,  can  be  admitted  to  a  share  in  the 
heavenly  life  that  prepares  for  it.     All  others,  however  at- 


SERM.  VII.]  of  the  Saints  in  Light.  113 

tractive,  however  amiable,  however  useful,  are  "of  the 
earth,  earthy."  They  may  vary  in  beauty  or  in  value,  from 
the  most  repulsive  forms  of  moral  depravity  to  the  fairest 
impulses  of  social  aftection ;  but  they  are  all  equally  remote 
from  the  preparatory  life  of  heaven,  in  so  far  as  they  are 
felt  apart  from  God,  in  so  far  as  they  would  equally  exist, 
were  God  conceived  to  exist  no  more. 

Here  then  is  the  ground  and  substance  of  the  charge 
which  religion  brings  against  the  world.  It  is  not  that  the 
world  does  not  abound  with  manifestations  of  moral  as 
well  as  of  physical  beauty.  It  is  not  that  many  fair  and 
admirable  impulses  and  principles  of  action  are  not  every 
day  witnessed  by  men ;  that  the  family  relation,  that  the 
larger  social  relations,  have  not  their  virtues  respected  and 
honored  among  us.  This  is  not  what  the  Gospel  asserts 
(and  it  is  right  we  should  remember  that  this  is  not  what 
it  asserts)  when  it  speaks  of  the  heart  of  man  as  utterly 
depraved,  of  the  world  as  a  moral  ruin.  What  it  does 
assert  is  this, — that  all  which  is  excellent  in  the  natural 
man  is  excellent  irrespectively  of  his  God ;  that  he  loves, 
hates,  prefers,  rejects, — and  often  rightly  too, — but  without 
any  thought  of  God's  laws  of  preference  and  rejection  ;  that 
thus  all — and  there  is  much — that  is  beautiful  in  his  best 
impulses,  is  beautiful  only  as  the  flower  or  the  landscape  is 
beautiful ;  his  heart  as  little  moving  through  its  circle  of 
social  kindness  from  a  desire  to  approve  itself  to  the  God 
who  has  commanded  them,  as  the  flower  expands  its  petals 
and  sheds  its  fragrance  in  voluntary  obedience  to  Ilim  who 
created  it, — the  one  beauty  being  as  much  and  as  little 
religious  as  the  other.  But  as  we  have  argued,  if  every 
motive  must  be  comparatively  worthless  for  the  activities 
of  eternity,  but  that  which  connects  us  directly  with  our 
God ;  if  with  the  earthly  framework  the  earthly  impulses 
shall  in  death  be  dissipated,  and  the  immortal  spirit  be  left 
to  those  alone  which  can  stand  the  fiery  test  of  God's  tre- 
mendous presence ; — then  do  we  press  it  upon  vou,  that 

10^ 


114  Meetness  for  the  Inheritance  [seem.  VII. 

that  wliicli  is  worthless  for  heaven  must  be  foreign  to  the 
heavenly  life  on  earth ;  then  do  we  bring  all  the  weight  of 
the  immortal  world  to  bear  on  the  perishable ;  then  do  we 
argue  from  the  future  to  the  present,  from  what  shall  be  yet 
to  what  ought  to  be  now ;  and  beseech  you  to  reflect,  that 
no  virtue  but  godliness,  no  excellence  but  that  which 
springs  from  God,  no  affection  but  that  which  tends  to  God, 
no  rule  of  life  but  that  which  God  has  sanctioned  and  which 
trains  for  God,  can  ever  be  the  virtue,  or  the  excellence, 
or  the  affection,  or  the  rule,  which  is  fitted  for  a  creature 
travelling  hourly  on  through  Time  to  God's  own  Eternity. 

You  now  perceive  that  our  argument  has  gained  another 
step  in  advance.  We  are  under  education  for  "  the  inheri- 
tance of  the  saints  in  light;''  heaven  must  then  fix  the 
character  of  the  life  that  is  to  qualify  for  it.  But  the  bless- 
edness of  heaven  is  the  joyful  conformity  of  the  will  to  God  ; 
this,  then,  this  alone  can  be  the  rule  and  the  perfection  of 
human  life.  Such  is  the  principle,  in  itself  surely  so  clear 
as  to  require  little  illustration,  but  in  its  application  liable 
to  some  evasion  from  the  degree  (already  hinted)  in  which 
men  fail  to  apprehend  the  simplicity  and  purity  of  the 
motive  here  noted,  and  to  separate  it  from  all  other  springs 
of  action.  Permit  me,  then, — for  on  this  everything  hinges, 
— to  contrast  this  one  sole  abiding  principle  of  eternal  hap- 
piness, this  true  and  only  discipline  for  heaven,  this  earnest 
and  perpetual  conformity  of  man's  will  to  God's  which 
will  yet  be  the  glory  of  "  the  saints  in  light,"  and  must  now 
be  the  preparation  for  their  "  inheritance,"  with  the  actual 
and  visible  life  we  all  behold  around  us. 

I  desire  to  be  brief,  and  one  large  class  may  be  dismissed 
without  a  comment.  I  deal  not  with  open  and  avowed 
vice.  My  object  is  to  prevent  misconception,  obscurity, 
sef-deceit ;  and  no  subtlety  of  self-hypocrisy  can  reconcile 
with  the  law  and  love  of  God,  vices  which  the  world  itself 
professes  to  discountenance.  I  come  among  the  amiabili- 
ties, the   noblenesses,  the  stern  and   lofty  virtues  of  our 


SERM.  VII.]  of  the  Saints  in  Light.  115 

social  life.  It  is  there  that  tlic  warfare  against  man's  fancied 
perfection  must  be  prosecuted,  and  the  true  nature  of  that 
one  principle  of  Christian  excellence  which  is  yet  to  be  the 
light  and  blessedness  of  heaven,  vindicated  against  all  its 
counterfeits.  It  is  these  virtues  which  the  man  of  the 
world  and  the  philosopher  equally  declare  themselves 
unable  to  conciliate  with  the  uncompromising  denunciations 
of  the  Gospel.  It  is  these  in  which  I  find  them  most  amply 
justified.  The  depravity  of  the  world  is  just  its  forgetful- 
ness,  impatience,  contempt  of  its  God ;  the  godless  eoccel- 
lencies,  the  unsanctified  noblenesses  of  man,  are  the  truest, 
the  most  awful  proofs  of  the  fact.  That  the  murderer,  the 
adulterer,  the  thief,  should  disclaim  subjection  to  his  God 
is  sad,  but  scarcely  surprising;  the  depth,  the  universality 
of  the  rebellion,  is  seen  in  the  independence  of  our  very 
virtues  upon  God ;  in  the  vast  sphere  of  human  excellence 
into  which  God  never  once  enters ;  in  the  amiability  that 
loves  all  but  God,  in  the  self-devotion  that  never  surren- 
dered one  gatification  for  the  sake  of  God  ;  in  the  indomitable 
energy  that  never  wrought  one  persevering  work  for  God  ; 
in  the  enduring  patience  that  faints  under  no  weight  of  toil 
except  the  labor  of  adoring  and  praising  God.  This  it  is 
which  really  demonstrates  the  alienation  of  the  world  from 
its  Maker,  that  its  best  affections  should  thus  be  affections 
to  all  but  Him ;  that  not  the  worst  alone  or  the  most  de- 
graded, but  the  best  and  loftiest  natures  among  us  should 
be  banded  in  this  conspiracy  to  exile  Him  from  the  world 
He  has  made ;  that  when  He  thus  "  comes  to  His  own," 
"  His  own"  should  "  receive  Him  not ;"  that  He  should  have 
to  behold  the  fairest  things  He  has  formed, — kindness,  and 
gratitude,  and  love, — embracing  every  object  but  Himself; 
the  loveliest  feeling  He  has  implanted  taking  root,  and 
growing  and  blossoming  through  the  world,  to  bear  fruit 
for  all  but  Him  ! 

That  you  may  the  more  clearly  perceive  this  momentous, 
this   ever-neglected    distinction   between    mere    impulsive 


116  Meetness  for  the  Inherilance  [SERM.  VIT. 

amiability  and  that  one  principle  of  voluntary  surrender  to 
God  which  alone  fits  for  God's  eternal  world, — let  me  pro- 
pose to  you  a  single  prominent  case.  What  in  our  nature 
is  more  beautiful  than  the  family  affection  ;  or  what  would 
more  readily  be  alleged  as  an  instance  to  countervail  the 
Scripture  accounts  of  our  fundamental  depravity  and  per- 
version ?  The  young  mother  for  weeks  will  hang  over  the 
couch  of  her  babe,  with  a  depth  of  self-abandonment,  as  if 
the  life  she  had  given  were  still  undivided  from  her  own, 
and  the  same  vital  tide  still  circulated  through  both.  The 
excitements  of  youth  and  society  suddenly  lose  all  their 
charm.  The  enjoyments,  the  comforts,  the  very  necessaries 
of  life  are  forgotten  in  the  total  absorption  of  this  affection  : 
life  itself  is  willingly  sacrificed  in  behalf  of  this  yet  more 
precious  existence,  an  existence  as  yet  undeveloped,  that 
can  know  nothing  of  the  pains  it  gives,  can  return  nothing 
for  all  this  lavish  devotion  but  tears,  and  waywardness, 
and  cries.  Beautiful  indeed  is  this;  the  coldest  nature 
must  acknowledge  its  loveliness,  must  recognize  its  value. 
But  where  is  its  relation  to  God?  Or  how  much  less  of  it 
would  exist  were  God's  existence  conceived  to  cease  for 
ever  ?  It  is  not  surely  because  God  commands  the  mother's 
care  that  it  is  ordinarily  given,  but  because  God  has  framed 
her  nature  to  bestow  it.  It  is  not  duty  but  affection  that 
binds  her  to  her  infant's  cot.  She  does  what  is  right,  but 
not  simply  because  it  is  right.  Or  if  you  doubt  it,  reflect 
whether  her  affection,  after  all,  exeeds  that  of  the  inferior 
animals,  willingly  dying  in  defence  of  their  offspring,  yet 
wholly  incapable  of  the  very  conception  of  duty  or  of  God. 
In  this,  then,  we  need  see  (except  incidentally)  no  recogni- 
tion of  a  divine  command ;  we  only  see  the  power  and 
intensity  of  those  affections  which  the  human  heart,  prodigal 
to  bestow  them  upon  all  earthly  objects,  never  dreams  of 
tendering  to  its  God.  And,  therefore,  while  we  praise  and 
love  such  beauteous  exhibitions  of  affection  (God  forbid  we 
should  say  ought  that  might  appear  to  slight  them  !)  we  are 


SERM.  VII.]  of  the  Saints  in  Light.  117 

forced  to  maintain  that  in  themselves  they  may  form  no 
discipline  whatever  for  heaven,  no  practice  of  the  diviner 
life ;  because  felt  apart  from  God,  and,  however  coincident 
with  His  law,  yet  wrought  without  any  intended  relation, 
or  willing  subjection,  to  the  law  they  obey. 

I  have  suggested  to  you  a  single  instance  of  the  distinction 
which  I  would  impress, — the  distinction  between  acting  from 
amiable  impulse  and  acting  from  obedience  to  God  ;  but  you 
will  see  how  deeply  it  cuts  into  the  boasted  excellencies  of 
our  nature.  Where  shall  we  look  for  the  high  and  heavenly 
in  that  nature,  if  not  in  such  a  case  as  this  ?  Yet  this,  it  is 
clear,  has  little  or  no  relation  to  God,  and  must,  therefore, 
be  nearly  worthless  as  an  element  in  that  training  of  the  will 
for  God's  eternal  world  Avhich  forms  the  object  of  our  text. 
What  more  can  be  said  for  friendship,  for  honor,  for  patriot- 
ism, for  all  in  which  man  ordinarily  exults;  so  far  as  these 
human  virtues  manifest  no  direct  recognition  of  God  or  sub- 
jection to  God?  Admirable  for  their  own  temporary  pur- 
pose, and  in  their  own  limited  sphere,  they  can  be  of  little 
or  no  value  in  a  world  where  their  objects  will  have  disap- 
peared; where  nothing  can  fully  avail  but  those  graces 
which  have  learned  to  embrace  as  their  object  but  that  one 
all-sufficient  Object  whose  glory  and  whose  power  fill  the 
amplitude  of  heaven  and  of  eternity.  Need  I  say  more  to 
make  you  clearly  understand  that  the  reputed  virtues  of 
human  society  are  no  education  for  God ;  inasmuch  as  they 
all  more  or  less  lack  that  one  essential  character  without 
which  all  virtue  is  profitless  for  heaven,  and  would  be 
useless  in  heaven, — the  habit  of  acting  from  the  love,  and 
in  obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  Clearly  apprehend  this 
momentous  distinction;  and  on  confidence  in  personal 
virtue,  no  blindness  to  personal  depravity,  can  stand  against 
it.  Joyful  obedience  must  be  the  happiness  of  heaven ; 
joyful  obedience  must,  therefore,  be  the  holiness  of  earth. 
No  vaunted  virtue,  wrought  out  of  God,  amiability  of 
manner,  gentleness  of  temper,  fidelity  of  friendship,  honor, 


118  Meetnessfor  the  Inheritance  [SEHM.  VII. 

integrity,  decorum, — no  virtue  that  leaves  tlie  heart  a  rebel 
to  its  Maker,  or  forgetful  of  Him,  can  dispose  for  heaven, 
or  "  make  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light." 

How,  then,  shall  the  work  be  wrought?  How  shall  we 
produce  the  heavenly  mind  which  fits  for  a  heavenly  world  ? 
Clearly  and  solely,  by  cultivating  affections  that  rest  in 
heaven  itself  and  its  God;  and  by  devoting  our  earthly 
affections  not  merely  as  their  own  instinctive  impulses  lead, 
but  also,  as  far  as  may  be,  in  felt  and  constant  conformity 
to  His  appointment.  Keligion",  as  distinct  from  the  virtues 
of  society,  the  graceful  amenities  of  ordinary  life,— Ee- 
LiGio^,  which  fixes  the  heart  wholly  and  permanently  on 
God  Himself, — it  is  no  enthusiam,  no  idle  speculative  illu- 
sion, to  affirm  that  this  alone  can  meet  the  requirements  of 
a  creature  formed  for  God  and  His  eternity.  Faith,  and 
hope,  and  love,  which  are  the  great  organs  or  exercises  of 
religion,  are  the  instruments  which,  gradually  uniting  the 
heart  to  the  spiritual  world  and  its  Lord,  separate  it  from 
earth,  predispose  it  for  heaven,  win  the  will  to  His  service, 
spiritually  disembody  the  soul  before  its  time,  and  train  it 
for  the  fellowship  and  the  heritage  of  the  saints.  Through 
these  the  pathway  lies  to  heaven,  and  through  these  alone. 
These  are  the  habits  that  must  be  attained,  or  heaven  is 
plainly  hopeless.  Truly  understand  what  heaven  is^  and 
you  will  see  that  salvation  is  impossible,  unless  by  these 
divine  affections  the  spirit  is  first  moved  to  know,  and  to 
desire,  and  to  love  Him,  whom  to  know  is  eternal  life. 

What,  then,  are  the  specific  functions  of  each  of  these 
great  preparatory  graces  ?  How  does  each  minister  to  the 
common  work  of  discipline  for  the  world  of  "the  saints  in 
light"? 

Faith  is  the  realizing  power.  Its  office  in  this  work  of 
preparation  is  to  make  us  see  the  unseen,  to  be  the  visual 
sense  of  the  Spirit.  Beholding  God  even  now  around  us, 
it  prepares  for  heaven  by  already  habituating  to  the  pre- 


SERM.  VII.]  of  the  Saints  in  Light.  119 

sence  of  heaven's  eternal  Master.  Even  tliis  existing  world 
is  a  scene  of  deep  awe  to  the  spirit  of  faith ;  it  is  pervaded 
by  the  providence  of  God,  it  is  haunted  by  His  angels. 
The  spiritual  system  that  encompasses  us  as  Christians  is 
still  more  wondrous;  and  this  is  the  constant  sphere  of 
faith.  And  beyond  them  both  stretches  out  into  infinity 
that  everlasting  world  which  faith  accepts  with  equal 
certainty ;  which  receiving,  with  trembling  joy,  the  message 
of  divine  mercy,  she  recognizes  for  her  own  ;  and  which, 
confiding  in  the  excellence  of  a  glory  she  cannot  yet  ade- 
quately conceive,  she  delivers  over  to  the  bright  visions  of 
Christian  hope. 

Hope  is  the  consoling  and  fortifying  power.  She  pre- 
pares for  heaven  by  maintaining  the  constant  desire  and 
expectation  of  its  promised  enjoyments.  As  faith  dwells 
on  the  testimony  of  the  glory  to  come,  hope  reposes  on  the 
glory  itself.  In  hours  of  sorrow  and  trial  the  magnificent 
vision  still  brightens  through  all  their  clouds ;  until,  as  it 
were,  wrought  into  the  substance  of  the  soul,  it  becomes  a 
part  of  its  better  nature,  and,  coloring  it  with  its  antici- 
pated heaven,  fits  it,  by  the  very  earnestness  of  desire,  for 
the  glory  it  desires. 

But  love  is  the  uniting  power,  the  consummation  and 
the  perfection  of  all.  In  its  highest  degrees  this  is  not  so 
much  a  preparation  for  heaven  as  heaven  already  begun ; 
for  we  know  of  nothing  more  perfect  in  heaven  than  the 
fulness  of  loving  union  with  God.  And  hence  (as  you 
will  all  remember)  St  Paul,  declaring  that  it  "  never  faileth," 
distinguishes  this  grace  as  one  which,  though  born  on  earth, 
lives  prolonged  into  eternity.  But  even  in  its  lower  de- 
grees,— for  its  degrees  are  infinite, — we  can  easily  under- 
stand how  that  love  of  God  which  makes  His  command- 
ments "not  grievous"  here,  must  prepare  for  a  state  when 
their  fulfilment  shall  be  intense  delight  hereafter;  how 
the  habit  of  dwelling  on  His  perfections  now  must  fitly 
increase  the  faculty  and  the  enjoyment  of  beholding  and 


120  Meetnessfor  the  Inheritance  [SERM.  VII. 

adoring  tlaem  hereafter ;  how  the  spirit,  awaking  in  the 
likeness  of  God,  whatever  new  and  wondrous  prerogatives 
it  may  then  acquire,  shall  nevertheless  recognize  an  identity, 
not  only  of  itself  but  of  its  affections,  surviving  death,  and 
shall  glory  to  resume,  in  the  immediate  light  of  the  divine 
countenance,  those  contemplations  of  His  infinite  righteous- 
ness, wisdom,  and  truth,  which  death  suspended  for  a  while, 
but  which  are  equally  fitted  to  be  the  happiness  of  both 
worlds.  And  thus  on  earth  the  love  of  God  fits  the  spirit 
for  its  own  development  and  perfection  in  heaven.  And 
thus  doth  the  Father,  implanting  in  us  initiatory  graces, 
faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  qualify  His  children  for  the 
blessedness  that  awaits  them;  not  more  anxiously  prepar- 
ing His  Paradise  for  them,  than  preparing  them  for  Para- 
dise. 

So,  then,  brethren,  heaven  is  our  destined  profession  for 
everlasting;  and  earthly  life, — let  the  expressive  phrase, 
though  homely,  be  pardoned, — is  our  professional  education. 
We  are  pupils  in  the  art  of  eternally  serving  the  divine 
Master;  the  Church  of  Christ  is  the  infant  school  of  the 
children  of  God.  "  Boys  ought  most  to  learn,"  said  the 
ancient  sage,  "what  most  they  shall  need  when  they  be- 
come men ;"  men,  by  the  same  principle,  are  bound  to 
learn  what  most  they  shall  need  as  immortals.  We  are 
pilgrims  to  a  dwelling-place  of  blessedness  ;  and  the  light 
that  streams  through  its  open  portals  ought  to  suffuse  us 
as  we  approach  them.  An  anticipated  beatitude,  a  sancti- 
ty that  even  now  breathes  of  Paradise,  a  grace  which  is 
already  tinged  with  the  richer  hues  of  glory — these  should 
mark  the  Christian  disciple ;  and  these,  as  he  advances  in 
years,  should  brighten  and  deepen  upon  and  around  him, 
until  the  distinction  of  earth  and  heaven  is  almost  lost,  and 
the  spirit,  in  its  placid  and  unearthly  repose,  is  gone,  as  it 
were,  before  the  body,  and  at  rest  already  with  its  God. 
This  may  seem  but  an  ideal ;  and  too  sad  it  is  that  it  should 
too  commonly  be  only  such ;  for  once  adequately  conceive 


SERM.  VIL]  of  the  Saints  in  Light.  121 

the  Christian's  gift  and  privilege,  and  what  have  I  described 
which  ought  not  naturally  to  characterize  him  ?  A  being 
already  invested  with  a  deathless  life,  already  adopted  into 
the  immediate  family  of  God,  already  enrolled  in  the 
brotherhood  of  angels,  yea,  of  the  Lord  of  Angels;  a  being 
who,  amid  all  the  revolutions  of  earth  and  skies,  feels  and 
knows  himself  indestructible,  capacitated  to  outlast  the 
universe,  a  sharer  in  the  immortality  of  God; — what  is 
there  that  can  be  said  of  such  an  one  which  falls  not  below 
the  awful  glory  of  his  position  ?  Oh,  misery,  that  with 
such  a  calling  man  should  be  the  grovelling  thing  he  is  I — 
that,  summoned  but  to  pause  for  a  while  in  the  vestibule 
of  the  eternal  temple,  ere  he  be  introduced  into  its  sanctua- 
ries, he  should  forget  in  the  dreams  of  his  lethargy,  or 
learn,  poor  scoffer!  to  despise  the  eternity  that  awaits  him. 
Oh,  wretchedness  beyond  words,  that,  surrounded  by  love 
and  invited  by  glory,  he  should  have  no  heart  for  happi- 
ness ;  but  should  still  love  to  cower  in  the  dark  while  light 
ineffable  solicits  him  to  behold  and  to  enjoy  it !  Oh,  horror 
yet  more  terrific,  that  him  whom  love  and  joy  cannot 
attract,  even  vengeance  and  torment  cannot  alarm;  that, 
unwilling  to  receive  God  as  merciful,  he  cannot  be  taught 
to  remember  Him  as  just;  or  to  reflect  that  he  who  refuses 
to  prepare  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light,  is  by 
that  very  refusal  hardening  his  own  heart  to  the  temper  of 
the  inheritors  of  darkness ! 

Finally,  brethren,  professing,  as  even  by  your  very 
attendance  in  this  house  of  God  you  now  profess,  to  aim  at 
heaven,  essay  to  live  in  the  spirit  of  heaven !  Cultivate 
its  dispositions !  its  love  for  a  loving  God,  its  tenderness 
for  even  unloving  man!  Live,  as  millions  of  spiritual 
creatures  even  now  living,  who  differ  from  you  in  this,  indeed, 
that  they  see  what  you  believe,  that  they  possess  what  you 
inherit,  but  who,  in  all  their  aogelic  ecstasies,  can  point  to 
no  such  attestation  of  infinite  affection  as  God  has  mani- 
11 


122       Meetnessfor  the  Inheritance  of  Saints^  etc.     [seem.  vil. 

fested  to  you^  and  who  might  well  be  the  pupils  in  divine 
love  of  those  for  whom  God  Himself  became  man,  and  poor, 
and  crucified,  in  order  that,  having  purchased  us  by  His 
blood,  He  might  purify  us  by  His  Spirit,  and,  refining  His 
creatures  of  the  dust  into  His  own  likeness,  to  prepare 
them  for  His  own  kingdom,  might  "  make  them  meet  to  be" 
at  last  "  partakers  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light." 


SEEMON    VIII. 

OCCASIONAL  MYSTERIOUSNESS  OF  CHRIST'S  TEACHING- 


Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  If  a  man  keep  my  saying,  he  shall  never  see 
death. — John  viii.  61. 


The  Scriptures  of  God,  my  brethren,  are  not  to  be  prac- 
tically interpreted  without  the  Spirit  of  God.  It  is  per- 
fectly true  that  much  may  be  done  in  the  field  of  critical 
argument  and  exposition  without  any  supernatural  aid.  It 
is  quite  certain  that  a  vast  and  elaborate  commentary  upon 
these  Scriptures  may  be  written,  and  read,  and  understood, 
without  the  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  It  is  supposable 
that  a  man  may  declaim  with  an  overwhelming  energy, 
and  a  force  of  genius  altogether  astonishing,  upon  the 
majestic  mysteries  of  God's  providence  and  grace ;  that  he 
may  have  power  to  arouse  feelings,  whether  of  tenderness 
or  terror,  that  long  lay  slumbering  in  the  lowest  depths  of 
the  natural  human  heart,  and,  with  a  potency  like  the 
fabled  miracles  of  magic,  to  call  them  out  at  his  bidding ; 
and  yet  that  neither  he,  nor  any  one  of  his  audience,  have 
ever  known,  in  any  sense  that  shall  tell  to  their  eventual 
salvation,  one  breath  of  the  effectual  Spirit  of  God,  one 
pulsation  of  the  genuine  spiritual  life  !  There  is  absolutely 
nothing  to  prevent  the  intellect  from  exercising  itself  upon 
the  Christian  revelation,  more  than  upon  the  contents  of 
any  other  printed  book ;  or  the  reason  from  estimating  it, 
or  the  imagination  from  building  on  it,  or  even  the  gentler 


124  Occasional  Mysieriousness  of        [SERM.  vill. 

affections  from  softening  at  its  details.  It  is  thrown  in  the 
midst  of  the  world  exactly  like  any  other  volume  around 
it,  printed  with  the  same  types,  read  with  the  same  eyes ; 
heard  Avith  the  same  ears  ;  and  the  faculties  and  feelings  of 
man  will  of  course  act  upon  it  as  they  do  upon  any  other 
history.  But  (if  the  Book  itself  may  be  allowed  to  declare 
its  own  claims  and  prerogatives)  all  this  external  similarity 
is  accompanied  with  a  total  internal  difference;  and  this 
book  differs  from  every  other,  in  requiring,  so  to  speak,  an 
organ  specially  prepared  to  receive  its  real  purport.  These 
things  are  ^'■spiritually  discerned." 

And  yet,  while  we  uphold  this  awful  distinction,  we 
must  balance  the  account  by  another  principle,  which  seems 
intimated  with  equal  clearness,  and  which,  I  believe,  it 
would  be  fatal  to  all  right  views  of  religion  to  overlook. 
The  change  which  takes  place  in  each  individual  soul 
■under  the  mysterious  agency  of  the  Spirit  is  vast,  but  it  is 
not  unlimited.  Whatever  real  fanaticism  (in  some  ages  of 
the  Church),  or  unintentional  but  injudicious  exaggeration, 
may  have  urged, — it  does  not  appear  that  the  of&ce  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  is  to  supply  us  with  affections  in  themselves 
substantially  new, — to  bestow  a  something  which  is  neither 
love  nor  fear,  nor  hope,  nor  desire, — but  simply  to  direct 
the  old  affections  to  higher  objects,  to  employ  the  former 
mechanism  for  more  exalted  purposes.  The  whole  array 
of  the  human  affections,  under  their  old  names  and  in  their 
old  characters,  are  brought  out  in  strong  relief  in  every 
page  of  Scripture;  the  object  of  the  apostolic  preaching, 
and  teaching,  and  warning,  and  example,  is  manifestly  not 
to  annihilate,  but  to  "  direct,  sanctify,  and  govern  them," 
upon  better  principles  and  under  higher  guidance.  But 
we  have  spoken  of  a  great  and  necessary  change:  with 
these  elements  preserved  unaltered,  where,  then,  is  the 
scene  of  the  work  of  the  Spirit?  where,  is  the  field  on 
which  this  mighty  revolution  is  wrought  ?  Unquestion- 
ably, in  the  olject  revealed,  and  in  the  corresponding  attrac- 


SERM.  VIII.]      Christ's  Teachinj — Christ  our  ^^LifeP  125 

tion  of  the  heart  to  that  object.  He  who  is  supernaturally 
gifted  sees  not  with  other  eyes,  but  he  sees  what  other  eyes 
cannot  see,  and  loves  what  other  hearts  cannot  love  I 
When  the  first  martyr,  "  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  looked  up 
stedfastly  into  heaven,"  his  visual  organ  was  itself,  doubt- 
less, unchanged :  but  while  others  looked  upon  the  common 
skies,  and  saw  but  clouds  or  sunshine,  he  alone  "  saw  the 
glory  of  God,  and  Jesus  standing  on  the  right  hand  of 
God."  Head  and  heart,  the  regenerate  is  still  the  same 
man  ;  but  in  a  new  world  of  bright  and  eternal  realities : 
and  though  "  every  thought,"  his  whole  intellectual  organ, 
remains  unmutilated,  yet  every  thought  is  "  brought  cap- 
tive to  the  obedience  of  Christ."  Thus  God  conciliates  His 
worlds  of  nature  and  grace,  and  evinces  that  nothing  was 
made  in  vain.  Sin  itself  is  an  element  in  discipline  ;  and 
as  for  the  affections  enthralled  by  its  despotism,  they  are 
sinful  not  in  themselves  as  affections,  but  in  their  depra- 
vation ;  they  are  meant  to  be  not  the  bond-slaves  of  evil, 
but  the  liberated  "  servants  of  righteousness ;"  they  are 
born  for  eternity  and  for  God ! 

Let  us  then,  ever  maintain  for  the  Spirit  of  Truth, — and 
more  than  ever  in  these  days,  in  which  we  are  wont  to 
hear  the  gravest  truths  of  revelation  questioned  or  diluted, 
or  overlooked, — His  own  unparticipated  right  to  illumine 
man ;  not  indeed  by  making  man  no  longer  man,  but  by 
feeding  the  affections  with  holy  food,  by  inviting  them  to 
holy  objects.  In  this  work  He  is  alone.  "It  is  the  Spirit 
that  quickeneth."  The  old  and  the  new  creation  are  alike 
exclusively  divine.  The  revelation  of  God  itself,  as  de- 
livered in  books,  dare  not  dispute  this  honor  with  the 
Everlasting  Spirit.  That  revelation  is  written  in  a  lan- 
guage familiar  to  our  daily  thoughts  and  converse;  it 
speaks  of  life,  and  death,  and  faith,  and  hope,  and  love, — 
all  household  words,  which  in  their  earthly  acceptation 
every  man  can  speak  of  and  define ;  but  to  pass  from  the 
earthly  term  to  the  heavenly  purport,  from  the  natural 

11* 


126  Occasional  Mysteriousness  of        [sERM.  Vlil. 

object  to  the  supernatural,  from  the  life  of  the  flesh  to  the 
life  of  the  spirit,  from  the  faith  which  trusts  in  the  brother- 
man  to  the  faith  which  trusts  in  the  "  first-born  among  many 
brethren,"  from  the  love  and  hope  that  are  entangled 
among  creatures  of  clay  to  the  love  and  hope  that  are  busy 
amons:  the  immortal  realities  of  heaven, — this  is  an  art 
which  the  Spirit  that  inspired  the  Scriptures  alone  can 
teach  to  the  man  who  reads  them  I 

Keflections  of  this  kind,  my  beloved  brethren,  are  natu- 
rally prompted  by  the  passage  before  us,  taken  in  connec- 
tion with  the  singular  dialogue  of  which  it  is  a  part.  They 
are  among  the  first  which  will  occur  to  meditative  students 
of  our  Lord's  habitual  teaching  (in  which  there  was  at  all 
times  a  striking  similarity  of  style  and  method) ;  but  per- 
haps on  no  occasion  does  this  profound  lesson  of  the  neces- 
sity of  spiritual  enlightenment  meet  us  more  forcibly  than 
upon  the  perusal  of  this  remarkable  discussion,  recorded  in 
the  eighth  chapter  of  St  John. 

The  divine  instructor  is  in  the  midst  of  His  Jewish  audi- 
ence. They  surround  Him,  half  awed  by  His  dignity,  half 
provoked  by  his  calmness.  Undisturbed,  and  as  if  He  felt 
himself  more  truly  addressing  ages  to  come, — as  if  He  stood 
in  the  presence,  riot  of  a  few  contentious  disputants,  but  of 
the  Church  He  was  to  found  and  to  redeem, — yea,  as  if 
He  spoke  in  the  presence  of  "an  innumerable  company  of 
angels"  and  the  "spirits  of  the  just",  whom  He  was  to 
"  perfect," — in  such  a  tone  as  this  He  replies  to  their  cavils. 
His  words,  while  they  sufficiently  answer  the  objections  of 
His  adversaries,  yet  answer  them  upon  lorinciples  ivhich  they 
cannot  yet  comiwehend ;  and  though  these  weighty  sentences 
seem  at  first  sight  designed  for  present  and  immediate  use, 
they  are  now  known  to  be  really  pregnant  with  the  deepest 
mysteries  of  the  spiritual  life,  and  only  to  be  understood  by 
those  who  have  had  experience  in  that  life.  Christ  spoke  to 
futurity,  and  pre  supposed  a  spiritual  illumination  not  yet 
bestowed.    He  would  evince  the  necessity  of  a  divine  inter- 


SERM.  Yili.]      Christ's  Teaching— Christ  our  ^^LifeP  127 

preter  to  unfold  and  explain  His  own  words ;  and  therefore 
He  speaks, — truths  indeed,  but  truths  whose  deep  purport 
He  knew  those  whom  He  addressed  were  wholly  unable  to 
penetrate.  What  are  the  topics  of  this  solemn  discourse  ? 
"  Truth "—  " freedom "—  "  life "—  "  death,  "—all  intelligible 
terms,  surely,  but,  in  their  spiritual  import,  to  the  unspi- 
ritualized  mind,  dark  as  the  counsels  of  God,  fathomless  as 
eternity  ! 

Two  important  uses  can  be  made  of  this  peculiarity  in 
our  Lord's  method  of  address,  combined  with  this  view  of 
its  object.  The  first  we  have  in  some  measure  seen.  Such 
a  discourse  as  that  to  which  I  am  calling  your  attention 
shows  us  Christ  Himself  proceeding  on  the  necessity  of  the 
supernatural  illumination  He  was  afterwards  to  bestow. 
He  speaks,  as  it  were,  in  cypher ;  the  Spirit  of  God  is  to 
furnish  the  solution.  He  teaches,  then,  by  exam2')le  no  less 
than  precept,  that  that  Spirit  alone  can  unfold  the  things  of 
the  Spirit ;  His  very  obscurity  to  the  audience  who  heard 
Him  is  a  perpetual  assumption  of  the  principle.  To  the 
Christian  believer,  therefore,  the  adoring  contemplation  of 
such  a  discourse  suggests  something  over  and  above  the 
purport  of  each  separate  passage.  It  •  urges  him  to  pray 
for  a  lamp  of  heavenly  light  to  read  it  -by !  It  bids  him 
not  be  content,  in  this  or  any  other  portion  of  Scripture, 
with  words,  but  to  covet  earnestly  to  be  familiar  with 
things^ — truths, — realities.  It  impresses  the  lesson  so  per- 
petually forgotten,  that  as  in  all  subjects  we  can  understand 
language  only  as  far  as  we  have  some  experience  of  the 
things  it  imports ;  so  in  religion  (by  the  very  same  princi- 
ple) the  spiritual  heart  alone  can  understand  the  language 
of  the  Spirit.  Think  of  it  for  a  moment,  and  you  will  find 
that,  in  every  book  whatever,  it  is  the  mind  of  the  reader 
that  puts  meaning  in  the  words ;  the  language  of  the  new 
covenant  is  a  celestial  language,  and  they  who  will  give 
their  fulness  to  its  blessed  words  must  have  caught  their 
secret  from  heaven  !     But  again: 


128  Occasional  Mysteriousness  of        [seem.  viii. 

To  the  infidel  impugner  of  Christianity,  this  view  of  the 
special  design  of  the  apparent  obscurity  of  discourses  such 
as  this,  and  the  refusal  of  our  Lord  to  descend  from  His 
own  lofty  strain  in  order  to  meet  on  a  lower  ground  the 
ignorance  of  His  assailants, — obviously  resists  a  popular 
objection  to  His  method  of  instruction.  But  it  does  more 
than  this.  Let  us  but  suppose  that  St  John  has  truly  re- 
ported the  discussion  before  us.  What  then  are  the  facts? 
Language  is  here  employed  unintelligible  to  the  unen- 
lightened Jew,  in  effect  unprofitable,  as  far  as  we  can  see, 
for  any  immediate  purpose;  certainly  little  calculated  to  con- 
ciliate temporary  popularity :  yet  this  very  language,  which 
then  dropped  from  those  divine  lips,  neglected  or  despised, 
except  by  a  few  humble  followers,  becomes  afterwards  trea- 
sured, published,  known  universally,  and,  even  by  those 
who  partially  disregard  it,  admitted  to  be  stamped  with  the 
impress  of  a  great  and  exalted  mind.  TFAo,  then,  was  this 
Being,  that  thus,  wandering  among  the  suburbs  of  Jerusa- 
lem, could  afford  to  lose  the  present  in  the  future  ?  and  not 
this  only,  but  to  count  upon  a  future  which  so  perfectly 
realized  His  calculation  ?  Does  not  the  whole  strain  of  the 
discourse  evince  the  calm  prescience  of  one  who  was  fami- 
liar with  the  secrets  of  time  to  come,  who  knew  that  He 
would  be,  though  He  was  not  yet^  appreciated ;  and  is  not, 
therefore,  the  very  obscurity,  and  the  very  reserve,  which 
the  assailant  of  the  divine  mission  of  Christ  offers  as  an  ob- 
jection, itself,  as  facts  and  history  have  now  established,  an 
inward  indication  of  a  knowledge  supernatural  and  divine  ? 

So  far,  brethren,  we  have  spoken  of  the  general  character 
of  this  momentous  discourse,  which,  as  the  most  prominent 
instance  of  our  Lord's  mode  of  meeting  His  adversaries, 
deserves  deep  and  patient  study.  We  have  seen  that  He 
speaks  a  mysterious  language  of  which  He  declines  to  offer 
any  immediate  explanation.  We  have  seen  a  strong  reason 
for  His  adoption  of  this  course, — to  impress  the  paramount 
necessity  of  spiritual  enlightenment;  and  we  have  seen  how 


SERM.  VIIT.]      Christ's  Teaching— Christ  our  ^'LifeT  129 

forcibly  this  seeming  neglect  of  the  perverted  and  petulant 
Jew  that  heard  Him,  for  the  higher  interests  of  the  Church 
that  was  to  succeed  His  ascension,  demonstrated  His  inward 
knowledge  of  futurity. 

II.  Let  us  now,  for  a  while,  rest  upon  one  of  those  many 
mysterious  phrases  of  the  discourse,  the  expression  recorded 
in  the  text,  "If  a  man  keep  my  saying,  he  shall  never  see 
deathr  You  cannot  fail  to  remember  how  fatally  the  Jews 
misunderstood  this  mighty  declaration,  in  imagining  that 
our  Lord  promised  to  His  followers  the  doubtful  blessing 
of  an  earthly  immortality ;  and  how  they  objected  to  Him 
the  death  of  their  greatest  ancestor,  as  a  sufficient  evidence 
of  the  supposed  arrogance  of  Him  who  offered  to  give  that 
which  Abraham  could  not  keep.  We  know  that  He  spoke 
of  a  deeper  mystery  of  holiness ;  I  have  said  that  the  Spirit 
alone  can  convey  the  idea  by  conveying  the  experience ; 
but  the  Spirit  is  ever  most  willing  to  visit  those  who  await 
Him  in  the  word  of  God,  and  who,  by  earnest  and  patient 
application  of  the  natural  faculties  (knowing  that  to  the 
possession  of  these,  no  less,  yea  more,  than  to  any  other 
trust  from  heaven,  is,  on  grounds  of  even  uninspired  reason, 
attached  a  deep  responsibility),  labor  after  celestial  wisdom, 
and  thus,  as  far  as  man  may,  bring  themselves  into  the 
blessed  sphere  of  higher  supernatural  influences.  It  is  no 
insult  to  the  Spirit  of  God  to  affirm,  that  He  has  His  own 
sphere.  His  own  laws,  His  own  conditions  of  operation ;  and 
that  we  must  meet  Him  in  subordination  to  these  if  we 
would  meet  Him  at  all.  Jordan  may  far  exceed  Abana 
and  Pharpar ;  but  what  avails  the  excellence  of  the  waters 
of  healing,  if  the  unbelief  of  the  spiritual  leper  prevent  him 
from  seeking  them ;  or  if  his  still  more  culpable  presump- 
tion betray  him  into  expecting  that  the  miracle  which  gra- 
ciously makes  them  a  bath  of  life,  will  of  course  be  ex- 
tended either  to  conveying  the  unwilling  recusant  to  their 
banks,  or  to  diffusing  the  mysterious  influence  through 


130  Occasional  Mysteiiousness  of        [SERM.  VIII. 

every  breatli  of  air  he  draws,  in  order  to  suit  his  indolent 
convenience. 

That  there  is  an  inseparable  connection  between  "  Christ" 
and  "life"  no  student  of  the  New  Testament  can  overlook. 
*'  The  life  was  manifested,"  says  St  John,  in  his  First  Epis- 
tle, "and  we  have  seen  it."  The  life  thus  "manifested" 
was,  doubtless,  Christ  Himself,  conformably  to  the  same 
Evangelist's  record  of  his  divine  Master's  proclamation, 
that  He  was  "  the  resurrection  and  the  life^'^  "  the  way,  the 
truth,  and  the  Ife^  Christ  is  "  the  life,"  plainly  because, — 
by  what  process  I  do  not  now  inquire, — the  cause  of  life,  as 
He  is  said  to  be,  our  "  peace"  and  our  "  sanctification," 
because  He  is  the  source  of  these  blessings ;  or,  as  dying 
Simeon  in  his  parting  hymn  designates  Him,  the  "  Salva- 
tion," of  which  He  was  the  author  and  securer.  The 
purport  of  the  expression  (as  attributing  to  Christ  the  pro- 
duction of  life)  is  more  directly  given  in  that  title  which 
St  Peter  employed  in  the  third  of  Acts,  "  Ye  killed  the 
Prince  [author,  leader]  of  life," — a  form  of  phrase  evidently 
intended  to  heighten  the  atrocity  of  the  act  by  the  force  of 
the  contrast. 

So  far  there  can  be  little  doubt  or  difference  of  opinion. 
Bat  when,  from  the  mere  fact  of  the  intimate  connection  of 
the  Lord  of  life  and  the  life  He  bestows,  we  advance  to 
estimate  more  precisely  the  nature  or  extent  of  this  "  life," 
we  find  among  those  who  undertake  to  speak  of  these 
matters  much  uncertainty  and  variance.  (1)  Some  will  tell 
you  that  the  phrase  ascribes  to  Christ  the  power  of  im- 
mortalizing human  souls ;  (2)  others,  in  a  higher  and  truer 
strain,  that  it  attributes  to  Him  the  spiritiial  resurrection 
from  the  death  of  sin,  which  takes  place  in  every  regene- 
rated soul ;  (3)  others,  again,  that  it  pronounces  Him  the 
author  and  bestower  of  an  eternity,  not  merely  of  existence, 
but  of  hapj^iness  in  heaven.  These  are  indeed  mighty  gifts; 
they  all  alike  presuppose  a  power  nothing  below  divine ; 
for  {^creation  be  divine,  the  recreation,  whether  to  existence. 


SERM.  VIII.]      Christ's  Teaching — Christ  our  '•'■Lifer  131 

to  righteousness^  or  to  hliss^  of  God's  noblest  earthly  crea- 
tures, surely  partakes  of  the  same  supreme  character  of 
power.  But  nobler  still  it  is  to  look  upon  them  all  as 
issuing  from  the  same  eternal  fountain.  Here,  then,  is  the 
solution  of  the  difQculty.  These  opinions  are  separately 
true,  but  separately  imperfect ;  the  Messiah  unites  in  Him- 
self all  these  offices,  offices  themselves  essentially  connected 
with  Him  and  with  each  other! 

1.  "In  Christ  all  shall  be  made  alive;"  but  that  the  depth 
and  extent  of  the  scriptural  term  "life"  can  never  be 
limited  to  the  mere  revival  of  the  soul  from  death  or  un- 
consciousness, seems  obvious  on  the  most  cursory  inspec- 
tion of  the  sacred  volume.  So  far  is  mere  immortality 
from  answering  to  this  gift  of  life,  that  there  is  a  species  of 
immortality  to  which  the  title  of  death^ — "  eternal  death," 
and  "the  second  death," — is  scripturally  given.  Accord- 
ingly Christ  Himself  expressly  terms  the  passage  to  the 
future  state  of  glory,  the  "  resurrection  of  /z/e,"  in  contrast 
to  "  the  resurrection  of  damnation^^  (John  v.  20) ;  and  he  is 
said  to  have  brought  not  merely  "  immortality,"  but  "  life 
and  immortality,"  to  light.  The  same  St  Paul,  who  assigns 
Him  this  high  office,  declares  that  the  Gospel  promises  to 
those  who  seek  "honor,  and  glory,  and  immortality,  eternal 
life,"  evidently  considering  that  this  eternal  life  involves 
them  all;  for  surely  the  prize  (in  a  land  whose  blessedness 
"  the  heart  of  man"  is  declared  unable  to  conceive)  will  not 
be  inferior  to  the  aim  which  its  votaries  can  here  propose 
to  their  conceptions.  It  appears  hence  that  this  "  life,"  as 
well  as  the  "  death"  spoken  of  in  the  text,  is  essentially  a 
moral^  not  a  merely  physical  state  or  notion ;  that  it  is  a 
blessed  and  spiritual  vitality.  To  express  His  highest 
spiritual  bestowments  no  term  is  more  frequently  employed 
by  our  blessed  Lord  than  "  light ;"  now  this  light  is  itself 
perpetually  connected  with  His  descriptions  or  intimations 
of  the  life  He  was  to  bestow,  and  that  in  a  manner  which 
indissolubly  combines  the  two.     My  followers  shall  have 


132  Occasional  Mysteriousness  of        [SERM.  viii. 

"  the  light  of  life^'^  He  declares  to  the  Pharisees  (John  viii. 
12) ;  while  "  the  shadow  of  death"  is,  as  you  know,  the 
constant  type  of  a  state  of  hopeless  spiritual  ruin.  It  was 
to  those  who  "  lay  in  the  shadow  of  death^^''  that  "  the  day- 
spring  from  on  high  came  to  give  lightP  And  surely  this 
use  of  "  life,"  to  express  "  blessedness"  was,  in  the  mouth 
of  our  Eedeemer,  perfectly  natural.  His  very  existence 
was  one  long  impulse  of  holiness ;  to  Him  to  live  was  to 
live  Id  holiness  ;  and  He  naturally  and  habitually  spoke  of 
that  eternal  life  with  which  alone  He  was  familiar,  as 
identical  with  eternal  holiness.  He  borrowed  His  language 
from  that  celestial  dialect,  where  there  is  but  one  term  for 
existence,  and  that  term  is  "  glory  I"  When  He  promised 
life  He  promised  all  that  was  unchangeably  associated  with 
it  in  His  own  divine  experience.  Nothing  short  of  a  trans- 
cendent and  abiding  exaltation  of  nature  deserved  the  title 
of  that  life  which  he  was  to  communicate  to  His  followers. 

The  "  life,"  then  of  which  the  New  Testament  reveals  to 
us  the  story,  is  beyond  and  above  the  mere  consciousness 
of  existence,  or  its  indefinite  prolongation  ;  "  the  water  of 
life"  which,  as  we  are  told,  flows  so  liberally  in  the  Paradise 
of  God,  is  more  than  a  physical  elixir ;  the  "  fruit  of  the 
tree  of  life"  is  more  than  a  physical  sustenance.  And  in 
like  manner,  he  who  (as  in  the  text)  is  promised  security 
from  "  death  for  ever,"  is  rescued  from  a  fate  far  more  ter- 
rible than  annihilation  ;  he  is  rescued  from  the  miseries  of 
death  protracted  into  eternity ! 

2,  3.  We  cannot,  then,  have  much  embarrassment  in 
setting  aside  this  undue  limitation  of  the  "eternal  life," 
which  Christ  has  purchased  for  His  followers.  But  greater 
difficulty  has  sometimes  been  found  in  appropriating  to 
their  respective  passages  the  other  significations  which  I 
have  mentioned :  the  spiritual  life  of  holiness  in  the  soul, 
and  the  eternal  life  of  happiness  hereafter.  Of  both  these 
Christ  is  equally  the  author ;  and  while  we  know  that  St 
Paul  found  it  necessary  (2  Tim.  ii.  18)  to  repress  a  notion 


SERM.  VIII.]      Christ's  Teaching— Christ  our  ^'LifeP  133 

which,  even  in  his  days,  had  gained  votaries,  that  the 
resurrection  to  life,  of  which  the  Redeemer  had  spoken,  was 
a  purely  spiritual  exaltation  of  the  soul,  and,  as  such,  ac- 
complished in  this  world  ;  perhaps  wc  may  sometimes  be  in 
danger  of  falling  into  the  opposite  extreme.  The  truth  is, 
that  these  things  are  essentially  and  forever  united^  and 
this  is  the  reason  why  the  same  phrase  is  employed  to 
characterize  them  both.  Let  me  ask  you  to  consider  this 
a  little  more  deeply. 

We  know  that  even  in  the  ordinary  exercise  of  the  moral 
faculty  in  men,  there  is  usually  included  a  consciousness 
of  desert^  and  thence,  in  minds  at  all  trained  to  carry  out 
their  own  conceptions,  a  strong  anticipation  of  some  yet 
unrealized  attestation  of  the  ineffaceable  distinctions  of 
good  and  evil,  in  the  form  of  recompense.  We  are  not, 
therefore,  to  wonder  that,  through  almost  every  region  of 
heathenism,  human  nature  bore  and  bears  witness, — faintly, 
indeed,  but  truly, — to  this  mighty  connection  of  the  present 
with  the  future ;  and  that  some  were  even  found  among 
the  unbaptized  world  who  could  boldly  tell  the  servant  of 
virtue,  that  though  the  reason  of  man  had  no  hand  to  un- 
weave the  tangled  web  of  Providence,  it  had  an  eye  to 
look  through  it,  and  a  voice  to  pronounce  with  infallible 
certainty,  that  the  power  that  rules  the  universe  rules 
Himself  and  it  by  the  immutable  law  of  right.  Now 
Christianity  is  the  law  of  right  in  its  fullest  action ;  and 
with  a  clear  and  constant  apprehension  of  the  true  charac- 
ter of  God,  as  proclaimed  in  revelation,  such  anticipations 
of  the  future  development  of  his  government  cannot  but 
brighten  into  a  belief  that  becomes  indissolubly  associated 
luith  a  course  of  earnest  virtue, — cannot  but,  by  the  in- 
evitable operation  of  habitual  reflection,  be  so  bound  up 
with  it  as  to  become  a  part  of  its  very  idea ;  so  that  the 
service  here  and  the  glory  hereafter  become  perpetual 
companions  in  the  thoughts,  each  supposing  and  demanding 
the  other.  And  if  this  be  so,  which  all  experience  confirms, 
12 


134  Occasional  Mysteriousness  of        [SERM.  viil. 

surely  it  is  not  difficult  to  conceive  that  the  child  of  God 
may  so  feel  his  future  inheritance  realized  in  his  present 
graces  as  at  length  to  identify  them  in  conception  and  in 
name ;  the  preparatory  life  of  this  world,  and  the  con- 
summate life  of  the  next,  being  the  two  inseparable  elements 
mutually  inclusive,  of  the  office  of  the  quickening  Spirit  in 
relation  to  the  soul  of  man. 

But  this  identification  becomes  infinitely  more  natural, 
when  we  reflect  on  the  substantial  sameness  of  the  inward 
state  in  both  the  stages  of  being,  a  sameness  of  which  this 
phraseology  is  at  once  the  consequence  and  the  proof.  If  that 
ineffable  gift,  Christ  received  into  heart  of  man  by  faithi,  be 
indeed  a  principle  whose  developments  are  to  make  the 
history  of  immortality,  why  should  we  disjoin  the  princi- 
ple from  its  results  ?  If  it  be  indeed  "  a  well  of  water  spring- 
ing up  into  everlasting  Zz/e,"  why  should  we  seek  a  separate 
title  for  the  fountain  and  the  river,  that,  issuing  from  its 
silent  depths,  flows  away  into  eternity?  If  it  be  a  "seed" 
whose  bloom  is  to  be  an  amaranth,  the  immortal  flower, 
shall  we  not  name  it  from  its  period  of  perfection,  and  love 
to  lose  the  feeble  present  in  the  glories  of  the  unfading 
future  ?  And,  surely,  could  we  look  upon  death  as  Christ- 
ians should  look,  could  we  see  in  it  a  mysterious  baptism, 
an  infant  baptism  of  the  "  little  children"  of  God,  from  the 
Church  suffering  into  the  Church  triumphant,  far  less  start- 
ling than  that  baptism  of  old  which  was  our  mystic  transit 
from  the  world  into  the  suffering  Church ;  it  is  with  feelings 
and  language  such  as  I  have  described,  that  we  would  feel 
and  speak  of  that  "  Holy  Spirit  of  promise  which  is  the 
earnest  of  our  inheritance  ;"  of  that  Spirit  which  already 
"bears  witness  with  our  spirit  that  we  are  the  children  of 
God,  and  if  children,  then  heirs  .•"  in  short,  of  the  substan- 
tial oneness  of  the  spiritual  life,  from  the  first  hour  of  the 
incorporation  into  Christ,  wheresoever  wrought  on,  unto 
very  eternity ! 

Nay,  I  know  not  if  even  yet  we  have  reached  the  deep 


SERM.  VIII.]      Christ's  Teaching— Christ  our  ''Lifer  135 

truth  of  this  matter.  We  all  know  how  the  spiritual  and 
the  vitally  eternal  are  united  in  Scripture  phraseology, 
whenever  it  has  occasion  to  speak  of  the  "  law  of  the  Spirit 
oflife^^''  of  that  "Spirit"  which  "is  LIFE  because  of  righteous- 
ness," of  that  "  spiritual-mindedness"  which  "  IS  life"  as 
well  as  "  peace."  The  more  you  rest  upon  these  profound 
sayings,  the  more  you  will  feel  that  they  speak  of  some 
mystic  intimacy  of  inward  connexion,  which  answers  to  all 
that  we  can  conceive  of  an  absolute  unitij  of  nature ;  and 
that,  had  we  faculties  to  see  these  things,  we  might  perceive 
that  a  deathless  permanence  belongs  to  the  spiritual  thing 
inherent  in  the  regenerate  mind,  if  it  indeed  evidence  its 
genuineness  by  there  through  earthly  life  abiding  and  fruc- 
tifying, in  virtue  of  a  natural  necessity  as  real  as  that 
which  perpetuates  any  of  the  unalterable  laws  and  relations 
which  reason  apprehends  in  the  universe  of  God.  The 
spiritual  is  essentially  eternal.  In  the  theory  of  Christian- 
ity (if  I  may  use  that  formal  name  for  the  glimpses  which 
we  gain  in  the  New  Testament  of  the  mighty  mysteries  of 
God)  they  are  not  two  ideas,  but  two  aspects  of  one  and  the 
same  idea ;  and  they  are  thence  used  so  as  to  imply  each 
other.  "Whoso  drinketh  my  blood  and  eateth  my  flesh 
hath  eternal  life,  and  I,"  who  thus  abide  in  him,  "  will  raise 
him  up ;"  he  hath  within  him  the  principle  which  will  after- 
wards manifest  itself  (as  in  a  natural  re-appearance)  in 
glory.  "  He  that  believeth  in  me  hath  passed  from  death 
unto  life;"  "he  that  hath  the  Son  hath  lifer  Christ,  then, 
and  His  sacred  interpreters,  seem  to  have  intimated  that  in 
sanctity  there  is  essentially  comprised  a  germ  of  immor- 
tality; that  holiness  is  so  far  necessarily  connected  with 
that  universal  scheme  of  perfection  of  which  it  is  a  part,  as 
to  partake  of  its  inherent  eternity  and  inherent  happiness, 
of  nature.  Feeling  thus,  they  could  regard  the  indwelling 
of  Christ's  eternal  Spirit  now  to  be  not  so  much  (one  might 
say)  the  condition,  as  the  first  stage  of  glory ;  and  thence, 
to  speak  of  the  "  life"  bestowed  by  Christ  in  inward  holiness 


136  Occasional  Mystei-iousness  of       [serm.  viii. 

in  time,  and  the  "  life"  bestowed  by  Cbrist  in  perfect  happi- 
ness in  eternity,  was  not  to  speak  of  two  lives,  but  of  two 
forms  of  one  incorruptible,  uninterrupted,  unchangeable 
gift  of  everlasting  life. 

Such  views  as  these,  then  (which,  if  I  were  not  afraid  of 
taxing  your  attention  unduly,  might  be  carried  much  far- 
ther), seem  to  show  how  closely  connected  are  the  three 
forms  of  life,  physical,  spiritual,  and  eternal,  of  which 
*'  Christ,  who  is  our  life,"  is  the  Almighty  Author.  The 
more  you  reflect  upon  this  mighty  theme,  the  more  you 
will  see  that  His  office,  instead  of  being  limited  to  any, 
grasps  them  all ;  that  He  must  raise  the  dead  as  Judge  and 
Saviour,  that  he  may  punish  and  that  he  may  save ;  that 
He  bestows  a  quickening  principle  of  spiritual  life  upon 
the  soul,  which  must  pass  the  grave,  for  nothing  holy  can 
perish;  it  "partakes  of  the  divine  nature,"  it  is  "incorrup- 
tible seed,"  and  must  flower  in  Paradise:  finally,  that  of 
this  last  consummate  state  He  is  also  Lord  and  Donor,  and 
in  love  shall  rejoice  as  He  beholds  the  same  light  which 
once  was  dawn,  hereafter  settling  in  that  noon  which  knows 
no  sunset! 

Of  this  life  divine  it  is  but  to  be  said,  that  it  is  traceable 
to  an  unfathomable  fountain  in  the  infinite  essence  of  God 
the  Father:  "the  Father  hath  life  in  Himself  J'  From  Him 
it  is  declared  to  be  received  by  His  Son,  yet  received  with 
a  certain  mystic  independency ;  "  Even  so  hath  He  given 
to  the  Son  to  have  life  in  Himself  f^  and  from  Him  it  flows 
abroad  upon  mankind,  according  to  the  inscrutable  laws  of 
the  divine  purpose :  "  Even  so  the  Son  maketh  alive  whom 
He  will;"  "as  I  live  by  the  Father,  so  he  that  eateth  me 
shall  live  hy  me ;"  "  because  I  live  ye  shall  live  also ;" — a 
purpose  of  which  we  only  know  that  it  directs  itself  by  the 
practical  belief  of  the  receiver,  for  "  he  that  belie veth"  it  is 
who  "  hath  everlasting  life,"  or,  as  the  text  expresses  it, 
"  he  that  keepeth  my  saying  shall  never  see  death."  Thus 
is  every  believing  child  of  God,  no  matter  in  what  earthly 


SERM.  VIII.]      Christ's  Teaching— Christ  our  ^' Lifer  137 

bondage  groaning,  in  what  earthly  misery  sunk,  bound  by 
a  chain  of  adamant  to  the  very  throne  of  the  ever-blessed 
Trinity.  There  is  that  in  him  which  hath  its  birthplace  in 
the  bosom  of  the  "  High  and  lofty  One  that  inhabiteth  eter- 
nity;" the  life  of  Him  who  bids  the  universe  live  is 
enshrined  in  his  inmost  spirit !  "  He  shall  never  see 
death,"  for  he  is  one  with  Him  who  cannot  die ;  He  has 
entered  within  the  portals  of  glory;  he  has  laid  his  hand 
upon  the  ark  of  God.  Dungeon  may  confine  him,  death 
may  threaten  him;  but  the  dungeon-bolt  cannot  exclude 
the  risen  Saviour,  and  death  itself  is  but  the  seal  and  pass- 
port of  his  immortality.  Brethren !  how  is  it  that  we  awake 
not  to  these  transcendent  claims?  How  is-  it  that,  with 
such  an  image  and  superscription  upon  us,  we  can  bear  to 
mingle  with  the  dull  alloy  of  earth?  How  is  it  that,  with 
all  these  awful  assurances  of  the  mighty  thing  the  spirit  of 
a  man  indeed  is,  when  bound  in  everlasting  unity  with  the 
spirit  of  Christ,  we  can  live  unthoughtful  of  such  an  heri- 
tage, as  if  this  world,  with  its  melancholy  mockery  of  hope 
and  happiness,  were  meant  to  fill  the  heart  that  a  God  has 
once  deigned  to  visit  and  sanctify;  or  as  if  the  curtain  that 
hung  upon  the  grave  had  never  been  indeed  withdrawn  by 
the  triumphant  Conqueror  of  sin  and  death! 

"He  that  keepeth  my  saying  shall  never  see  death!" 
Many  a  dark  century  has  passed  away  since  the  walls  of 
the  temple  echoed  these  glorious  words;  words,  one  would 
deem,  that,  uttered  from  God  to  man,  might  well  change 
the  face  of  the  world,  might  arouse  from  one  end  of  earth 
to  the  other  a  high  and  holy  ambition  to  join  the  bright 
band  of  immortals  thus  summoned  to  the  courts  of  God's 
own  palace  by  God's  own  voice !  O  sad  reverse  of  reality ! 
The  people  of  God,  the  keepers  of  the  sayings  of  Christ, 
far  from  filling  all  lands,  and  glorifying  every  clime,  are  a 
scattered  race,  often  a  destitute  and  persecuted  race! 
Doubtless,  our  faith  is  yet  to  hold  the  earth  in  fee;  ulti- 

12* 


138  Occasional  Mysteriousness  of        [serm.  viil. 

mately  it  shall  take  in  the  whole  wide  family  of  man ;  but 
at  the  present  period,  and  ever  since  its  foundation,  it  is 
vain  to  deny  that  if  "  without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the 
Lord,"  it  has  been  as  truly  partial  in  its  actual  results  upon 
the  eternal  state  of  mankind,  as  Judaism  itself  upon  their 
temporal  condition.  Age  after  age,  a  few  hundreds  or 
thousands  of  contemporary  believers  are  collected  into  the 
treasure  cities  of  immortal  happiness,  gathered  from  various 
spots  in  the  wide  Christian  world ;  and  there  the  operation 
ceases!  "Many  are  called,"  but  it  is  still  too  melancholy 
a  certainty  that  "few  are  chosen."  It  is  as  if  mankind 
formed  a  vast  garden  of  diversified  plants,  out  of  which  the 
great  florist  selects  here  and  there  a  few  promising  shoots 
upon  which  to  exhaust  all  the  resources  of  divine  art,  to 
show  how  holy  a  thing  human  nature  may  be  made,  and  to 
fit  for  transplanting  into  His  own  special  conservatory. 
Into  this  awful  mystery,  the  most  tremendous  in  all  the 
divine  government,  I  dare  not  intrude.  I  tremble  at  my 
own  insignificance  when  I  stand  before  this  cloud  that 
covers  the  mercy-seat  of  God  !  A  voice  from  the  sanctuary 
declares  that  "  God  is  Zoz-e,"  and  it  is  enough ;  I  believe  the 
voice.  I  leave  it  to  the  secret  alchemy  of  divine  wisdom 
to  convert  evil  into  good,  and  (as  even  in  our  own  limited 
experience)  out  of  destruction  to  bring  forth  life.  But 
while  I  leave,  and  would  bid  yoit  leave,  in  faith,  to  the 
eternal  Father,  the  dispositions  of  His  own  boundless 
empire,  I  cannot  abandon  the  right,  and  high  privilege  of 
the  minister,  to  summon  all  who  hear  me  to  ponder  the 
practical  instruction  that  this  appalling  mystery  impresses. 
When  the  disciples  once  inquired,  "  who  then  can  be 
saved?"  the  answer  was  consolator}^,  that  "with  God  all 
things  are  possible."  When,  on  another  occasion,  a  similar 
question  was  proposed, — "  are  there  few  that  be  saved  ?" 
the  answer  was  severe,  practical,  and  imperative :  "  Strive 
to  enter  in  at  the  narrow  gate!"  And  such  should  be  the 
mingled  web  of  our  conclusions  on  the  subject ;  a  comhina- 


SERM.  VIII.]      Christ's  Teaching — Christ  our  ''LifeP  139 

tion  of  confidence  in  the  absolute  goodness  of  God,  and  of 
earnest  resolution  to  be  warned  by  the  terrors  of  his 
threats. 

"  He  that  keepeth  my  saying  shall  never  see  death !" 
Mark,  brethren !  it  is  no  momentary  adoption  of  the  faith 
and  law  of  Christ  to  which  eternal  life  is  the  promised 
recompense.  It  is  no  transient  emotion  of  passionate  grief, 
no  occasional  sympathy  with  martyred  virtue,  no  evanes- 
cent enthusiasm  in  the  cause  of  the  Gospel,  that  forms  in 
the  heart  of  man  the  germ  of  future  glory ;  it  is  "  to  Iceep 
the  saying  of  Christ."  Our  Christianity  is  momentary, 
because  its  principle  is  momentary;  we  turn  to  religion  to 
diversify  our  life,  not  to  le  our  life.  But  oh !  as  you  would 
indeed  be  the  sealed  and  reserved  inheritors  of  glory, 
remember  this — that  God  will  not  condescend  to  take  His 
place  among  the  fashions  of  the  day!  Kemember,  that 
Christianity  is  not  a  new  system  of  theological  reasoning, 
nor  a  new  assortment  of  phraseology,  nor  a  new  circle  of 
acquaintance,  nor  even  a  new  line  of  meditation, — but  a 
new  life.  Its  very  being  and  essence  is  inward  and  prac- 
tical ;  it  is  not  the  likeness  or  the  history  of  a  living  thing, 
it  is  itself  alive!  And  therefore  to  examine  its  evidence  is 
not  to  try  Christianity ;  to  admire  its  martyrs  is  not  to  try 
Christianity;  to  compare  and  estimate  its  teachers  is  not  to 
try  Christianity;  to  attend  its  rites  and  services  with  more 
than  Mahometan  punctuality  is  not  to  try  or  know  Christi- 
anity. But  for  one  week,  for  one  day,  to  have  lived  in  the 
pure  atmosphere  of  faith  and  love  to  God,  of  tenderness  to 
man :  to  rejoice  in  the  felt  and  realized  presence  of  Him 
who  is  described  as  "  coming  up  from  the  wilderness,"  sup- 
porting his  beloved ;  to  have  beheld  earth  annihilated  and 
heaven  opened  to  the  prophetic  gaze  of  hope ;  to  have  seen 
evermore  revealed  behind  the  complicated  troubles  of  this 
strange,  mysterious  life,  the  unchanged  smile  of  an  eternal 
Friend,  and  everything  that  is  difficult  to  reason  solved  by 
that  reposing  trust  which  is  higher  and  better  than  reason: 


140       Mysteriousness  of  Christ's  Teaching^  etc.      [SERM.  VIII. 

to  have  known  and  felt  this,  I  will  not  say  for  a  life^  but 
for  a  single  blessed  hour,  that^  indeed,  is  to  have  made 
experiment  of  Christianity, — that  is  to  know  the  imperish- 
able work  of  the  Spirit  in  preparing  souls  for  eternity, — 
that  is  to  "  keep  the  saying"  which  shall  keep  from  death, 
— that  is  to  have  a  glimpse  of  the  meaning  of  those  mystic 
words  which  I  will  not  dare  to  paraphrase  or  amplify,  but 
which  are  in  themselves  all,  and  more  than  all,  I  have 
attempted  to  express, — that  "  OUR  life  is  hid  with  Christ 
in  God." 


SERMON  IX. 

SELF-DELUSION  AS  TO  OUR  STATE  BEFORE  GOD. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

If  we  say  that  we  have  no  sin  we  deceive  ourselves. — 1  John  i.  8. 

When  our  parents  in  Paradise  had  broken  the  command 
of  God,  we  are  told  that,  among  the  earliest  tokens  of  their 
corrupted  nature  (thenceforward  the  unhappy  inheritance 
of  their  race),  they  "  hid  themselves  from  the  presence  of 
the  Lord  God  among  the  trees  of  the  garden ;"  but  we  may 
be  assured,  that  that  guilty  impulse  of  concealment  had 
been  preceded  by  another  which  was  a  no  less  fatal  token 
and  accompaniment  of  guilt, — and  that,  as  after  their  crime 
they  strove  to  hide  from  God,  so  during,  and  before  it,  they 
had  too  successfully  learned  to  hide  from  themselves  !  It 
is  among  the  most  potent  of  the  energies  of  sin,  that  it 
leads  astray  by  blinding,  and  blinds  by  leading  astray ;  that 
the  soul  of  man,  like  the  strong  champion  of  Israel,  must 
have  its  "  eyes  put  out"  when  it  would  be  "  bound  with 
fetters  of  brass," — and  condemned  "  to  grind  in  the  prison- 
house." — Judges  xvi.  21.  Our  divine  Instructor  has  taught 
us,  that  men  "  love  darkness  rather  than  light,  because  their 
deeds  are  evil ;"  and  the  force  of  the  reason,  the  power  of 
the  "  because,"  is  not  merely  from  such  extrinsic  influences 
as  shame,  and  the  dread  of  detection,  and  the  impatience  of 
reproof,  and  the  jealous  dislike  of  an  exellence  that  per- 
petually condemns  them,  but,  doubtless,  besides  all  these 


142  Self-Delusim  as  to  [serm.  ix. 

and  similar  motives,  from  tlie  very  necessity  of  the  case, 
from  the  inherent  and  inevitable  efficacy  of  sin  to  diffuse 
darkness,  and  to  make  us  in  love  with  the  darkness  it  dif- 
fuses. The  heathen,  according  to  St  Paul,  "  had  the  under- 
standing darkened,"  and  "  were  alienated  from  the  life  of 
God  through  ignorance  f  and  he  traces  this  melancholy 
"  lack  of  knowledge  through  which  the  people  were  de- 
stroyed" to  its  fountain  in  the  "blindness  of  their  hearth — 
Eph.  iv.  18.  And  they  who  perish  under  the  spells  of  that 
lying  prophet  whose  coming  is  "  with  all  deceivableness  of 
unrighteousness,"  perish  "because  they  received  not  the 
love  of  the  truth,  thsit  they  might  be  saved,"  being  "for  that 
cause  sent  strong  delusions  that  they  should  believe  a  lie." 
— 2  Thess.  ii.  10,  11.  Thus  is  Grod's  mysterious  judgment 
to  be  justified  when  He  shall  arraign  the  guilt  of  that 
unhelief  which  at  first  appears  so  utterly  removed  from  the 
sphere  of  voluntary  and  wilful  sin ;  thus  in  every  similar 
case,  however  apparently  excusable,  is  He  to  stand  ap- 
proved of  men  and  angels  when  he  shall  unravel  all  the 
tangled  mesh  of  our  excuses,  and  flash  upon  us  the  tremen- 
dous conviction,  that  we  are  lost  only  because  we  would  be 
lost,  that  in  every  several  instance  of  temptation  the  sin 
lay  with  us  as  the  situation  with  God; — pursuing  the 
trembling  conscience  into  its  loneliest  retreats,  crushing  all 
its  unhappy  devices  of  self-deception,  and  forcing  it  (last, 
worst  form  of  judgment !)  to  set  its  own  seal  upon  its  own 
condemnation. 

Brethren!  as  you  would  escape  that  judgment,  anticipate 
it !  As  you  would  stand  clear  with  God,  stand  manifest  to 
yourself!  Shrink  not  from  earnestly  contemplating  the 
ravages  of  the  disease,  if  you  would  sincerely  estimate  the 
value  of  the  remedy  !  1  know  it  is  no  soothing  theme  of 
which  I  have  to  speak ;  but  religion  cannot  for  ever  speak 
only  of  her  rewards,  and  never  of  her  conditions.  If  she 
promise  eventually  to  lead  to  the  "  green  pastures  and  the 
still  waters"  of  holiness,  present  and  eternal,  the  pathway 


SERM.  IX.]  our  Slate  before  God.  143 

must  sometimes  lie  through  no  pleasant  land.  There  are 
times  when  it  is  the  duty  of  the  minister  of  Christ  to  lead 
men  through  the  gloomy  wards  of  the  hospital  of  the  heart, 
to  unwind  the  bandage,  and  to  expose  the  corruption  it 
covers.  It  is  but  to  forestall  the  judgment,  which  must 
accomplish  the  same  office,  if  we  neglect  it.  Is  it  not  better, 
then,  to  do  that  in  serenity,  resolution,  and  sober  hope, 
which  else  were  assuredly  done  in  hopeless,  helpless,  profit- 
less remorse  ?  And  though  I  speak  of  the  theme  as  gloomy, 
it  is,  after  all,  if  rightly  apprehended,  but  a  temporary 
gloom ;  nor  does  the  Apostle  in  the  text  represent  it  other- 
wise. He  pauses  not  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow;  he 
passes  onward  to  the  region  of  light  and  peace  beyond  it. 
It  is  but  the  frowning  form  and  the  flaming  sword  that 
guards  " the  way  of  the  tree  of  life^  "If  we  say  we  have 
no  sin,  we  deceive  ourselves ;  but  if  we  confess  our  sins,  He 
is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive  us  our  sins,  and  to  cleanse  us 
from  all  unrighteousness."  But  though  glorious  prospects 
may  open  in  the  distance,  for  the  present  we  must  be  con- 
tent in  these  our  reflections  to  linger  together  among  the 
shadows. 

I.  The  Apostle  declares,  then,  that  the  imagination  of 
our  own  sinlessness  is  an  inward  lie.  It  has  been  much 
disputed,  but  I  do  not  now  delay  minutely  to  inquire, 
whether  he  included  in  this  affirmation  the  highest  degrees 
of  Christian  attainment :  a  question  of  far  more  importance 
in  systems  of  theology,  than  in  the  living  art  of  practical 
godliness.  The  excellent  person  who,  in  the  last  century, 
principally  insisted  on  this  point,  with  the  usual  tendency 
of  sectarian  leaders  (and  assuredly,  of  all  who  ever  bore 
that  unhappy  character,  none  should  be  named  with  gentler 
rebuke), — but  with  the  inevitable  tendency  of  all  sepa- 
ratists to  lose  "the  proportion  of  the  faith,"  and  to  view  the 
whole  mystery  of  God  in  the  heart  of  man  in  subservience 
to  some  special  and  favorite  dogma, — really  made  the 
theological  question  of  Christian  perfectibility  of  far  more 


144  Self-Delusion  as  to  [SERM.  ix. 

^practical  importance  than  it  ever  deserved.     To  believe  or 
to  deny  the  possibility  of  Christian  "  perfection"  is  to  leave 
the  motives  of  the  spiritual  life  almost  wholly  unchanged, 
as  long  as  each  man  believes  (and  who  on  any  side  doubts 
this?)  that  it  is  the  unceasing  duty  of  each  to  be  as  perfect 
as  he  can^  and,  in  the  holy  ambition  of  yet  completer 
conquest,  to  "think  nothiag  gained  while  aught  remains 
to  gain."     And  surely,  whatever  may  be  the  measure  of 
sanctification  which  God  bestows  upon   His  children  in 
this  world,  we  can  scarcely  conceive  its  highest  state  un- 
accompanied with  a  longing  for  a  state  yet  higher,  clearly 
conceived,  and  sought  with  a  personal  consciousness  (so 
far)  of  imperfection,  and  an  ardent  desire  to  still  escape 
that  remainder  of  earthliness  that  embarrasses  the  ascent. 
In  fact,  the   belief  of  Christian   perfectibility  seems   in- 
applicable  to   individual   practice    from    the   very   nature 
of  Christian  holiness.     Were  a  perfect  man  to  exist,  he 
himself  would  be  the  last  to   know  it ;    for  the  highest 
stage  of  advancement  is  the  lowest  descent  in  humility. 
As  long  as  this  humility  is  necessary  to  the  fulness  of  the 
Christian  character,  it  would  seem  that  it  is  of  the  essence 
of  the  constant  growth  in  grace  (however  encouraged  by 
holy  joy  and  inward  testimonies)  to  see  itself  lowlier  as 
God  exalts  it  higher.     It  is  as  one  who  stands  by  the 
margin   of  a   lake,  and   gazes   on   his   own   image  clofee 
beneath  him ;  conceive  this  contemplator  of  himself  borne 
gradually  aloft  towards  the  heavens,  and  the  image  which 
he  still  beholds  as  he  soars  will  deepen  in  proportion  as 
he  rises!     Besides  this  operation  of  humility,  it  must  be 
remembered  that  the  spiritual  life,  if  it  be  a  progressive 
life,  involves  a  progressively  increasing  knowledge  of  God. 
Now,  though  the  spirit  of  man  assuredly  must  brighten  in 
purity  as  thus  in  faith  and  love  it  approaches  the  great 
source   of  all  holiness,  it  must   also  appreciate  far  more 
accurately  the  force  of  the  contrast  between  itself  and  its 
mighty  model;  nay,  its  very  adoration,  apprehending,  as 


SEEM.  IX.]  our  State  before  God.  145 

nil  affection  docs,  more  profoundly  tlie  excellencies  of  its 
object,  must  impress  upon  it  its  own  comparative  nothing- 
ness :  and  thus,  as  it  becomes  relatively  more  perfect,  it  may 
be  said  to  feel  itself  absolutely  less  so.  In  truth,  it  is  only 
piety,  and  piety  fervent  and  exalted,  that  can  really  feel 
how  immeasurably  far  it  is  from  perfect  holiness.  There 
are  distances  so  great  that  all  calculation  of  distance  is 
neglected  or  impossible.  We  cannot  tell  how  far  is  the 
nearest  fixed  star,  and  we  know  that  the  mass  of  mankind 
would  conjecture  it  a  few  miles  at  most ;  could  we  approach 
nearer,  we  should,  for  the  first  time,  learn  how  far  ^YQ  were! 
Surely  it  is  so  with  our  religious  estimates  of  approxima- 
tion to  the  light  and  glory  of  God ;  the  earth-born  crowd 
afar,  if  they  think  at  all  of  the  matter,  never  dream  them- 
selves so  darkl}^,  so  remotely  exiled ;  it  is  only  he  who 
struggles  nearer,  and  much  nearer,  that  begins  at  length  to 
perceive  the  true  amount  of  the  distance.  And  thus,  what- 
ever be  the  doctrine  of  Christian  perfectibility  collected  out 
of  this  epistle  of  St  John,  it  certainly  can  have  but  little 
relation  to  the  earthly  saint's  estimate  of  Ms  oivn  piety ;  his 
ejaculation  will  still  be  with  David, — "  I  will  run  the  way 
of  thy  commandments,  iclien  thou  shalt  enlarge  my  heart ;" 
"  My  soul  cleaveth  unto  the  dust ;  quichen  thou  me  accord- 
ing to  thy  word ;" — his  highest  offerings,  as  he  contemplates 
those  exceeding  broad  commandments  that  involve  the 
whole  sacrifice  of  the  man  to  God,  still  appearing  to  him- 
self all  unworthy  of  the  altar  on  which  they  are  laid.  He 
will  scarcely  dare  to  sa}^,  wtih  the  Iloly  One  of  God, — "  I 
have  finished  the  work  which  thou  gavest  me  to  do." — 
John  xvii.  4.  Nay,  I  doubt  not  but  it  is  the  very  genius 
of  that  divine  love  which  is  the  bond  of  perfectness,  to  be 
lovingly  dissatisfied  with  its  own  inadequacy  :  and  such  a 
worshipper  in  his  best  hours  will  feel  that,  though  "  love" 
le,  indeed,  as  these  divines  so  earnestly  insist,  "  i\iQ  fulfilling 
of  the  Law,"  his  love  is  itself  imperfect,  deficient  in  degree, 
and  deficient  in  constancy;  and  that  in  this  life  it  can,  at 
13 


146  Self-DelusLwi  as  to  [serm.  ix. 

best,  be  only  the  germ  of  tliat  charity  which,  "  never- 
failing,"  is  to  form  the  moving  principle  of  the  life  of  eter- 
nity. And  though  he  shed  tears  of  humble  gratitude  to 
think  that  his  -Heavenly  Master  is  pleased  to  accept  such 
love  as  this,  and  even  to  call  it,  in  a  modified  sense,  a  fulfil- 
ment of  His  Gospel  Law,  it  does  not  appear  that  the 
believer's  consciousness  of  this  fulfilment  (were  it  ever  so 
absolute  and  complete)  could  itself  form  a  practical  motive 
of  much  importance  in  the  Christian  life.  Let  him  be  but 
assured,  that  the  aspirations  of  his  heart  and  the  labors  of 
his  hand  are  a  duty,  and  acceptable  to  God,  and  I  cannot 
conceive  that  his  aspirations  will  be  less  ardent  or  his 
labors  less  efficient,  though  he  should  hesitate  to  believe 
himself  arrived  at  the  fulness  of  evangelical  perfection,  and 
though  he  should  still  continue  to  appropriate  the  warning 
words  of  the  text, — "If  I  say  that  I  have  no  sin^  I  deceive 
myself,"  and  still  joyfully  reiterate  the  blessed  sequel, — 
"but  if  I  confess.  He  is  faithful  and  just  to  forgive!" 

Bat  it  is  not  of  those,  whom  some  would  not  only  pro- 
nounce "perfect,"  but  enjoin  to  feel  and  know  themselves 
such ;  it  is  not  of  those,  who  (as  I  w^ould  rather  represent 
it)  doubt  all  in  themselves  Avhile  they  doubt  nothing  in 
Christ,  that  I  have  now  to  speak ;  it  is  not  of  those  peaceful 
pilgrims  of  whom  "the  world,"  that  perhaps  their  presence 
preserves  from  ruin,  "  is  not  worthy," — who  find  in  their 
Lord  the  supplement  of  all  their  own  infirmities,  and  as 
they  rise  to  God  love  to  lose  themselves  in  his  light ;  it  is 
not  of  those  whom  "  the  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  hath  made 
free  from  the  law  of  sin  and  death,"  that  I  have  this  day 
to  speak.  Alas!  the  state  of  the  Christian  world  does  not 
suffer  us  long  to  dwell  among  these  homes  of  holiness, — 
by  that  "  river  whose  streams"  still  "  make  glad  the  city  of 
God,  the  holy  place  of  His  tabernacles."  We  must  speak 
of  those  whose  cold  hearts  and  neglectful  lives  utter  the 
bold  denial  of  a  sinlessness  which  the  lips  dare  not  deny ; 
who  "  cry  out  of  the  dejjths,''^  indeed,  but  not  for  rescue  or 


SERM.  IX.]  OUT  Slate  lefore  Ood.  147 

redemption ;  wlio  caniiot  know  God  as  a  Eedeemer,  for 
they  cannot  feel  from  ichat  lie  is  to  redeem! 

Adequately  to  enumerate  the  causes  of  tliis  lamentable 
blindness  to  pressing  and  palpable  evil,  would  be,  of  course, 
impossible.  Being  largely  produced  by  mere  indifference 
to  the  inquiry, — for  men  cannot  know  what  they  will  not 
examine, — it  must  be  increased  by  everything  which  tends 
to  prolong  that  indifference,  that  is,  by  every  worldly  occu- 
pation whatsoever.  And  thus  the  particular  cause  of  this 
delusion  will  vary  with  every  variety  of  individual  cha- 
racter. Every  temptation  that  occupies,  and  by  occupying 
excludes  all  other  occupants,  may  claim  its  share  in  the 
perpetuation  of  this  melancholy  ignorance.  The  whole 
host  of  Satan  are  engaged  to  drug  this  opiate.  All  their 
enchantments  are  accessory  to  this,  and  result  in  this.  And 
as  this  tumult  of  occupation  is  itself  one  of  the  most  usual 
means  by  which  the  remonstrances  of  conscience  are  over- 
borne, and  scope  thereby  given  to  self-love  to  repose  in  the 
security  of  its  own  fictitious  innocence,  we  may  affirm  that, 
under  the  incessant  influence  of  this  latter  principle,  these 
occupations  are  made  the  means  of  even  the  more  delibe- 
rate presumption  which  the  text  supposes ; — that  they  all 
equally,  though  indirectly,  help  the  sinner  on  to  feel,  if  he 
dare  not  say, — that  he  may  (in  the  terrible  words  of  the 
Lawgiver  of  Israel)  "hear  the  words  of  the  curse,  and 
bless  himself  in  his  heart,  saying,  I  shall  have  peace^  though 
I  walk  in  the  imagination  of  mine  heart!"  (Deut.  xxix. 
19);  or  with  the  guilty  Israelites  in  the  Prophet  (Hos.  xii. 
8),  "I  am  become  rich,  I  have  found  me  out  substance ;  in 
all  my  labors  they  shall  find  none  iniquity  in  me  that 
were  sin !"  "  I  counsel  thee,"  said  the  warning  Spirit  to 
such  boasters  in  a  later  day,  "to  anoint  thine  eyes  with 
eye-salve,  that  thou  mayest  see." — Rev.  iii.  18.  It  was  the 
early  impulse  of  the  sinners  of  Eden  to  know  their  naked- 
ness and  flee  to  hide  it;  but  it  would  seem  that,  in  this 
spiritual  destitution,  men  may  cry  "that  they  have  need  of 


148  Self-Delusion  as  to  [SERM.  IX. 

nothing,  and  hiow  not  that  they  are  wretched,  and  miserable, 
and  poor,  and  blind,  and  naked!" — Eev.  v.  17. 

It  would  be  vain,  therefore,  to  think  of  specifying  the 
particular  causes  of  the  evil ;  we  can  only  speak  of  some  of 
the  general  principles  on  which  it  rests. 

II.  In  attempting,  then,  some  such  brief  exposure  of 
the  sources  of  this  lamentable  ignorance  of  our  personal 
state  with  God,  of  the  power  of  that  deluding  voice  that 
evermore  whispers  us  "  we  have  no  sin," — it  will,  of  course, 
be  unnecessary  to  enforce  at  any  length,  that  the  whole 
mystery  of  deceit  must  be  primarily  referred  to  the  govern- 
ing agency  of  Satan, — in  this  sense,  as  in  every  other,  "  the 
ruler  of  the  darkness  of  this  world."  That  that  tremendous 
antagonist  of  human  happiness  stands  concealed  behind  the 
entire  machinery  of  evil,  no  one  can  doubt,  who  is  not  dis- 
posed to  question  the  whole  revealed  account  of  the  per- 
sonages of  the  spiritual  world.  It  is  a  living  spirit  with 
whom  we  have  to  contend,  as  it  is  a  "living  God"  whom 
Ave  have  to  aid  us.  It  is  no  abstract  law  or  ideal  con- 
ception of  evil,  as  some  have  dared  to  theorize  ;  but  a  Being 
personal,  and  conscious,  and  distinctively  active,  as  our- 
selves, though  with  faculties  immeasurably  beyond  us ; — a 
Being  profound  in  purpose,  subtle  in  arrangement,  bold  in 
enterprise,  undaunted  in  execution  ;  a  Being  who  knows  us 
far  better  than  we  know  ourselves,  and  hates  us  far  more 
intensely  than  even  his  worst  inspirations  have  instigated 
us  to  hate  one  another ;  a  Being  whose  compass  of  possible 
activity,  extending  through  every  region  where  tempta- 
tion can  extend,  seems  for  a  time  permitted  to  span  the 
universe,  and  even  (if  we  may  dare  to  interpret  certain  mys- 
terious intimations  of  Iloly  Writ)  to  darken,  by  his  occa- 
sional presence,  for  some  unfathomable  purpose,  the  council- 
chamber  of  the  Omnipotent  Himself.  Satan,  then,  is  the 
prime  efficient  cause  of  this  lethargy ;  he  who  deceives  that  he 
may  destroy,  stupefies  that  he  may  deceive ;  the  cunning  of 
the  Serpent  alone  can  reach  the  master-subtlety  of  making 


SERM.  IX.]  our  State  lefore  God.  149 

the  soul  of  man  do  his  work  by  being  its  own  unpitying 
enemy,  and  traitor,  and  cheat;  it  is  only  the  "father  of  lies" 
that  thus  can  make  the  wretched  heart  a  liar  to  itself. 

But,  then,  it  is  certain,  that  as  God  is  pleased  to  work 
b}^  means,  and  to  approach  circuitously  to  Ilis  ends,  so, 
still  more,  is  His  enemy  bound  to  the  same  law  ;  and  that, 
therefore,  as  the  Creator's  path  of  light,  through  provi- 
dence and  grace,  is  occasionally  discoverable  by  experi- 
ence, and  directed  on  principles  already  prepared  to  His 
almighty  purposes,  so  also  may  the  crooked  ways  of  the 
Evil  One,  similarly  adjusted,  be  similarly  sought  and 
known.  Miracles  for  evil,  any  more  than  miracles  for 
good,  are  not  to  be  anticipated  in  the  ordinary  ways  of 
human  life;  instantaneous  strokes  of  spiritual  ruin  are  as 
unusual  as  instantaneous  gifts  of  spiritual  perfection.  It 
is  not  more  Satan  who  destroys  us,  than  we  who  destroy 
ourselves  at  his  bidding.  Even  in  his  boldest  achieve- 
ments, he  still  does  not  create  but  pervert;  he  is  to  the  last 
a  subordinate  and  permissive  agent  in  the  territory  of  God. 
It  is  not  to  infuse  new  powers  that  he  labors,  but  by  every 
art  to  corrupt  and  poison  the  old  to  ruin ! 

1.  The  first  and  darkest  of  his  works  on  earth  is  also  the 
first  and  deepest  fountain  of  the  misfortune  we  are  now 
lamentinsr, — the  orio^inal  and  inherited  coreuption  of  the 
HUMAN  SOUL  ITSELF.  It  is  ignorant  of  sin,  just  because  it 
is  naturally  sinful.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  it  may  be 
said  that  "  the  heart  knoweth"  not  "  its  own  bitterness." 
Faint,  frail,  and  disordered  from  the  first,  how  should  it 
easily  suspect  its  own  disease  ?  inexperienced  in  the  better, 
how  should  it  dream  that  a  better  exists  ?  Though,  as 
some  have  imagined  in  fanciful  theories  of  education,  you 
could  preserve  it  from  every  tincture  of  outward  evil,  you 
cannot  stanch  the  bitter  fountain  of  the  heart  itself,  the 
well  of  water  springing  up  unto  everlasting  death ;  though 
you  could  banish  every  temptation  to  actual  guilt  from 

13* 


150  Self-Delusion  as  to  [seem.  ix. 

abroad,  and  should  sedulously  leave  it  to  its  own  workings, 
in  precluding  positive  crime,  you  would  have  left  unsup- 
plied  a  positive  deficiency.  One  chief  object  of  the  Gospel 
history,  as  applied  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  is  to  humble  and 
yet  animate  us  by  a  portraiture  of  moral  excellence,  which, 
as  observation  cannot  furnish,  so  assuredly  Nature  will 
never  spontaneously  imagine.  We  cannot  know  our  degra- 
dation, we  cannot  struggle,  or  even  wish,  to  rise,  if  we  have 
never  been  led  to  conceive  the  possibility  of  a  state  higher 
than  our  own.  How,  then,  is  man's  spirit,  of  its  own  ac- 
cord, to  devise  that  bright  ideal  of  purity  which  is  to  con- 
vince it  by  contrast  that  it  "hath  sin,"  and  sin's  feebleness, 
within  it,  indisposing  it  for  strenuous  effort,  and  dissuading 
it  from  holy  thought  ?  Will  it  learn,  untaught,  its  own 
immortal  destinies,  wake  to  the  mystic  voices  that  call  ever- 
more upon  the  fallen  child  of  heaven,  and  anticipate  eter- 
nity ?  Will  it  know  itself  under  foreign  tyranny,  and 
groan  for  deliverance,  and  imagine  a  Saviour?  Ask  Nature 
what  she  has  done  for  the  lonely  child  of  the  forest  and  the 
prairie ;  has  she  ever  taught  him  to  recognize  the  true  im- 
mensity of  his  heritage,  or  to  feel  that,  degraded  as  it  is,  he 
Avears  a  nature  that  a  God  need  not  refuse  to  wear  ?  Or 
does  not  he, — as  all, — turn  from  the  heavens  above  him  to 
his  kindred  earth,  and  (though  few  may  be  his  outward 
solicitiugs  to  guilt)  "say  to  corruption,  Thou  art  my  father; 
to  the  worm.  Thou  art  my  mother  and  ray  sister  I" — Job 
xvii.  14.  Nature  can  teach  discontent  with  this  world,  but 
there  her  lesson  well  nigh  closes ;  she  talks  but  vaguely, 
and  feebly,  and  falsely  of  another!  Now,  if  this  be  so, 
have  we  not  for  this  mournful  unconsciousness  of  our  per- 
sonal depravity  a  powerful  cause  in  that  depravity  itself? 
AYill  you  not  learn  that  it  is  idle  to  argue,  "  we  cannot  be 
the  guilty  things  that  preachers  would  make  us,  or  we 
should  inevitably  feel  the  discord  intolerable,"  when  you 
remember  that  the  heart  was  originally  pitched  for  no  other 
music?     Will  you  not  know  that  a  violent  effort  alone  can 


SERM.  IX.]  our  Slate  he/ore  God.  151 

suffice  to  wake,  when  the  whole  bent  of  nature  weighs  us 
down  to  slumber  ? 

2.  So  far,  then,  it  appears  that  Nature,  herself  prone  to 
sin,  may  be  expected,  in  virtue  of  that  very  tendency,  to 
tell  us  "we  have  no  sin,"  and  that,  therefore,  her  evidence 
is  to  be  received  with  suspicion ;  but  it  must  next  be  re- 
membered that,  properly  speaking,  no  human  being  can  be 
seen  in  this  state  of  nature  alone.  Could  we  address  our 
commissioned  message  to  mankind  as  they  come  from  the 
hand  of  "  Nature,"  we  should  feel  indeed  that  we  had  to 
discharge  no  easy  task;  to  tell  them  of  unsuspected  evil, 
of  the  implanted  seeds  of  that  upas  tree  of  the  heart,  which, 
unless  cast  out  in  the  seed,  must  yet  spread  and  poison  so 
widely  in  the  leaf, — of  efforts  unthought  of  that  must  be 
made: — but  yet  we  could  address  them  with  hope  and 
cheerfulness.  But  it  is  not  thus  we  meet  man.  He  is  far 
advanced  upon  his  way  before  his  steps  are  arrested.  Re- 
peated acts  are  become  principles  of  action,  and  every  man 
is  the  creature  of  his  own  past  life.  If  Nature  alone, — 
treacherous  and  deoradcd  nature, — is  silent  in  denouncino- 
sin, — if  she  has  no  instinctive  power  to  arouse  herself,  what 
shall  she  be  when  doubly  and  trebly  indurated  by  habit; 
when  the  malformed  limb  becomes  ossified;  when  that 
faculty  which  was  destined  to  be,  under  divine  guidance, 
the  antagonist  of  nature,  "  a  second  nature,"  as  it  is  truly 
called,  to  reform,  and  resist,  and  overlay  the  first, — is  per- 
verted into  the  traitorous  auxiliary  of  its  corruption  ?  We 
know  not  ourselves  sinners,  because  from  infancy  we  have 
breathed  the  atmosphere  of  sin  ;  and  we  now  breathe  it,  as 
we  do  the  outward  air,  unceasingly,  yet  with  scarcely  a 
consciousness  of  the  act !  A  man  lives  in  the  frigid  form- 
alism of  external  religion,  or  in  the  habitual  neglect  of  God 
(itself  a  sin,  and  the  parent  of  all  sin),  until  it  seems  almost 
impossible  to  separate  the  habit  from  life  itself;  to  live  at 
all  is  to  live  llms  ;  and  he  as  little  dreams  of  asking  himself, 
can  it  indeed  be  true  that  he  is  a  sinner  calmly  travelling 


152  Self -Delusion  as  to  [seem.  IX. 

the  pathway  to  ruin,  as  lie  does  of   seriously  inquiring 
whether  his  heart  beats,  or  whether  his  hair  turns  grey 
with  years.     The  process  has  been  so  constant  as  to  be  for- 
gotten, and  has  at  length  become  almost  equally  indepen- 
dent of  voluntary  effort.     He  sins,  so  to  speak,  mechani- 
call}^.      The   terrible    power   of    irreligion,   become   thus 
habitual,  to  blind  men  to  the  momentous  peril  of  their 
daily  state,  is  above  all  evinced  in  this, — that  every  form  of 
exhortation  or  appeal  is  weak  to  break  the  lethargy ;  yet 
not  at  all  from  any  unbelief  of  the  facts  or  doctrines  stated, 
but  from  an  obstinate  refusal  or  inability  to  imagine  that 
they  can  have  the  remotest  reference  to  the  hearer  himself. 
Here,  indeed,  is  a  state  which  Grod  alone  can  pronounce  not 
hopeless.     Such  a  man  (do  I  not  speak  to  your  ordinary 
experience  ?)  will  listen  to  the  declaration  of  the  terrors 
and  the  promises  of  the  Gospel ;  he  will  applaud  the  faith- 
fulness of  the  preacher's  unqualified  delivery  of  his  mes- 
sage; he  will  bring  home  to  his  listening  family  or  friends 
the  views  and  arguments  he  has  heard,  and  even  reflect 
laboriously  and  comment  acutely  upon  their  cogency,  and 
pronounce  himself  gravely  satisfied  on  all  which  has  been 
established  regarding  the  immutable  requisitions  of  God, 
and  the  terrors  of  impending  judgment,  and  the  moment 
of  time  into  which  the  fates  of  eternity  are  crowded  ;  and 
yet,  through  the  entire,  never  once  entertain  a  shadow  of 
suspicion  that  one  sentence,  one  threat,  one  terror,  was  ap- 
plicable to  himself.     Nay,  he  will  himself  be  a  preacher, 
an  instructor  of  his  fellow-men ;  he  will  admit  that  the  very 
blindness  of  which  we  speak  is  an  universal  characteristic  of 
human  nature,  yet  suspect  it  not  to  be  his  own;  he  will 
declaim,  in  bitter  severity,  of  public  evil,  yet  never  dream 
of  private  sin ;  he  will  own  and  lament  the  state  of  man 
in  general,  but  never  remember  the  state  of  one  man  in  par- 
ticular.    His  own  sin  is  his  own  habit,  but  the  sins  of  his 
fellow-creatures   are  not  his  habits ;  they,  therefore,  may 
become  prominent  objects  of  thought,  while   his  personal 


SERM.  IX.]  our  State  before  God.  153 

guilt  (greater,  it  may  be,  in  frequency  and  intensity),  is  an 
inseparable  part  of  his  very  existence,  and  thence  passes 
unnoticed  into  the  mass  of  his  ordinary  life.  The  profes- 
sional man,  for  example,  who  may  become  habituated  to 
the  use  of  falsehood  or  duplicity,  as  little  knows  how  to 
disentangle  this,  even  in  conception^  from  the  bulk  and  sub- 
stance of  his  customary  business, — to  regard  it  as  some- 
thing separately  and  distinctively  wrong, — as  men  think  of 
mentally  decomposing  into  their  chemical  constituents  the 
common  water  or  air,  every  time  they  imbibe  them.  The 
mass  of  men  know  these,  as  they  know  their  own  hearts, 
only  in  the  gross  and  the  compound.  Is  it  not  thus  that 
constant  habit  persuades  us  "  we  have  no  sin"  by  making 
us  unceasingly  sin ;  and  increases  our  self-content  in  direct 
proportion  as  it  makes  it  more  and  more  perilous  ? 

Now,  I  have  to  entreat  you  to  remember,  that  this 
operation  of  habit  is  an  universal  law ;  it  belongs  not  to 
one  man,  nor  to  two  men,  but  to  mankind ;  nay,  as  far  as 
experience  or  conjecture  can  reach,  it  belongs  to  the  whole 
animated  creation  ;  and,  therefore,  you  may  be  individually 
assured,  that  if  you  have  never  seriously  estimated,  or  at 
least  distrusted,  its  influence  in  disguising  your  hearts  from 
themselves,  you  are  yet  utterly  ignorant  of  the  extent  of 
your  own  personal  need  of  mercy  and  forgiveness ! 

3.  "We  have  seen  that  sinful  nature  hides  her  own  sin  • 
we  have  seen  that  long  and  unbroken  hahit  tells  us  "  we 
have  no  sin"  in  the  very  work  of  multiplying  and  strength- 
ening it ;  inquire  if  there  be  not  something  further  about 
us,  in  the  frame  and  condition  of  the  world,  that  is  fitted  to 
assist  this  melancholy  work  of  deception.  The  blind  man 
does  not  conceive  of  light,  neither  does  the  godless  spirit 
conceive  of  God.  But  even  supposing  the  organ  to  be 
restored,  were  he  placed  in  a  world  of  darhiess,  he  would  be 
as  far  as  ever  from  imagining  the  true  nature  of  the  light  he 
could  not  witness ;  and  when  he  heard  of  it, — let  us  sup- 
pose,— in  certain  periodic  assemblies,  as  a  thing  which  high 


154  Self- Delusion  as  to  [SERM.  IX. 

autliority  had  declared  to  be  glorious  in  itself  and  in  its 
results;  it  might  engage  a  moment's  careless  fancy;  it 
might  serve  to  talk  of,  as  something  very  excellent,  no 
doubt,  but  which  no  sensible  man  could  ever  waste  his 
thoughts  in  expecting  to  experience ;  it  might  serve  to  add 
emphasis  to  an  imprecation,  or  solemnity  to  an  oath ;  but 
it  is  obvious  that  the  wanderer  of  that  dark  world  could 
entertain  no  true,  or,  however,  no  permanent  conception  of 
the  extent  of  a  deprivation  which  no  one  around  him 
thought  of  lamenting,  and  scarcely  one  around  him  could 
describe.  No  one  arrests  that  evil  in  himself  which  his 
eyes  have  never  ceased  to  contemplate  in  others.  Even 
follies  that  at  first  are  odious  lose  their  oppressiveness  when 
we  are  surrounded  with  nothing  else;  as  the  enormous 
weight  of  the  air  becomes  imperceptible  by  its  pressure 
being  universal.  When  we  do  judge  of  our  own  state,  we 
test  ourselves  by  the  worst  around  us ;  when  we  judge  of 
the  state  of  others,  we  take  care  to  compare  it  with  the  best 
qualities  of  ourselves.  But  in  truth,  most  of  us  find  little 
time  for  either  comparison  ;  society  moulds  us,  and  we  (in 
our  measure)  mould  society,  with  perfect  unconsciousness 
on  both  sides.  As  men  copy  themselves  by  force  of  hahifj 
they  copy  others  by  force  of  example;  and  both  almost 
equally  foster  ignorance  of  the  virulence  of  the  evil  they 
familiarize,  and  perpetually  reconcile  the  sinner  to  himself. 
Mankind  in  crowds  and  communities  tend  to  uniformity ; 
as  the  torrents  of  a  thousand  hills,  from  as  many  different 
heights,  meet  to  blend  in  one  unbroken  level.  And  in 
that  union,  the  source  of  so  much  happiness  and  of  so  much 
guilt,  each  countenances  the  other  to  console  himself;  we 
are  mutual  flatterers  only  that  the  flattery  may  soothingly 
revert  to  our  own  corruptions.  And  if,  at  any  moment, 
conscience  should  be  stung  to  energy,  its  efl'ort  is  short- 
lived ;  we  faint  and  are  crushed  under  the  weight  of  a 
whole  world  of  opposing  example  ;  the  madness  of  a  world 
assumes  almost  the  authority  of  a  law  of  nature;  and  it 


SEEM.  IX.]  our  Slate  before  God.  155 

seems. as  vain  to  resist  the  uniform  pressure  of  all  society, 
as  it  would  be  to  lift  a  hand  to  arrest  the  revolution  of  the 
globe, — ourselves  a  portion  of  the  mass  we  would  arrest. 
Every  seductive  tendency  to  ease  and  self-content  comes  in 
to  complete  the  charm ;  and  as,  before,  we  dreamed  "  we 
had  no  sin"  because  we  had  been  sinning  from  our  infancy, 
so  now  we  cherish  and  confirm  the  dream,  because  all  the 
world  is  as  sinful  as  ourselves. 

4.  How  the  power  of  this  universality  of  sin  around  us 
to  paralyze  the  sensibility  of  conscience,  is  augmented  by 
the  influence  of  fashion  and  of  bank, — not  merely  to 
silence  its  voice,  but  to  bestow  grace,  and  attraction,  and 
authority  upon  deadly  sin, — I  need  not  now  insist.  I  need 
not  tell  you  that,  so  susceptible  is  man  of  this  species  of 
influence,  so  servile  a  copyist  of  evil,  that  vice,  the  darkest 
and  the  most  degrading,  seems  to  lose  its  name  and  nature 
when  thus  authenticated  by  the  passport  of  rank.  It  would 
not  be  too  much  to  say,  that  there  is  scarcely  a  crime  con- 
ceivable which  might  not  be  thus  transformed,  or  refined 
into  a  tolerated  weakness,  by  the  united  effort  of  the  upper 
orders  of  any  country.  Oh  !  that  those  who  possess  such 
a  power  would  indeed  awake  to  the  responsibility  it  in- 
volves ;  that  they  would  see  that  as  all  sin  is  reproductive, 
and  none  can  end  in  itself,  so  their  sin  multiplies  a  thou- 
sandfold, till  it  work  out  its  own  likeness  in  every  descend- 
ing level  of  society !  Philosophers  tell  us  that  the  least 
oscillation  in  the  system  of  the  material  universe  propagates 
a  secret  thrill  to  its  extremity ;  it  is  so  in  every  act  of  social 
man ;  but  the  disorders  of  the  upper  classes  are  publicly 
and  manifestly  influential, — theij  are  as  if  the  central  mass 
itself  of  the  system  were  shaken  loose,  and  all  its  retinue  of 
dependent  worlds  hurled  in  confusion  around  it.  How 
shall  the  poor  man  understand  us,  when  we  tell  him  of  the 
slumbering  demon  of  his  own  evil  nature,  if  all  that  he  has 
learned  to  revere  unite  to  call  that  evil  good  ?  How  shall 
we  endeavor  to  disenshroud  the  darkness  of  the  heart  of 


156  Self- Delusion  as  to  [serm.  ix. 

such  an  one,  to  force  our  way  tlirougli  all  the  obstacles  that 
ignorance,  and  dulness,  and  thoughtlessness  (the  too  certain 
characteristics  of  poverty)  oppose,  to  rouse  him  to  a  sense 
of  those  high  destinies  for  which  it  is  our  duty  to  train  the 
humblest  as  laboriously  as  the  loftiest, — if  a  voice  that  finds 
its  echo  in  every  crevice  of  the  heart  reiterate,  that  we  speak 
of  terrors  that  need  not  affright,  and  sins  that  are  no  sin  ? 
If  the  light  that  is  in  the  earth  be  darkness,  how  great  is 
that  darkness  !  Surely  it  is  among  the  most  striking  of  the 
many  evidences  of  the  utter  godlessness  of  the  world  which 
God  has  made,  that  we  still  grasp  at  power,  when  power  is 
thus  appallingly  attended  with  responsibility;  that  we 
covet  the  very  materials  of  our  condemnation;  that  we 
strive  after  a  position  in  the  world's  eye,  which  can  only 
expose  to  a  more  terrible  scrutiny  from  the  eye  of  God ; 
and  are  not  contented,  until  we  are  cursed  with  a  weight 
of  obligation,  that  an  angel  could  scarcely  carry  and  be 
guiltless ! 

5.  But  to  example  and  authority,  thus  enlisted  in  the 
ranks  of  evil,  and  thus  fortifying  the  false  security  of  our 
imaginary  innocence,  must  be  added  such  considerations  as 
the  tendency  of  pleasure  itself,  or  of  indolence,  to  prolong 
this  deception,  and  our  natural  impatience  of  the  PAIN  of 
self-disapproval.  That  which  is  pleasing  to  soul  or  sense 
detaches  from  all  but  itself;  it  fixes  and  fascinates,  and  en- 
feebles as  it  fascinates.  Still  more  effective  is  the  other 
influence.  Our  Creator  has  given  us  the  pain  of  self-con- 
demnation to  counterbalance  the  temptation  to  evil.  A 
man  will  love  the  sin,  yet  shudder  at  the  remorse  that  fol- 
lows it.  But  there  are  no  provisions  in  our  nature  which 
may  not  be  wilfully  impaired;  and  it  would  even  seem 
that  they  are  delicate  in  proportion  to  their  excellence. 
The  structure  of  the  moral  feelings  is  as  tender  as  the  struc- 
ture of  an  eye  or  ear,  and  both  are  in  a  great  measure  put 
into  our  own  keeping.  Now  you  know  there  are  two  ways 
of  casing  an  aching  joint, — by  healing  its  disease  or  by 


SERM.  IX.]  our  Slate  before  God.  157 

paralyzing  tlic  limb.  And  there  are  two  ways  of  escaping 
an  angry  conscience, — by  ceasing  from  the  evil  that  pro- 
vokes it,  or  by  resolutely  refusing  to  hear  its  voice,  which 
soon  amounts  to  silencing  it  for  ever.  I  am  not  to  tell  you 
which  is  the  usual  resource  of  guilty  and  neglectful  hearts ; 
I  need  not  insist  how  powerful  a  persuasive  to  the  belief 
that  "we  have  no  sin"  must  be  this  perpetual  impulse 
to  avoid  the  pain  of  thinking  that  we  have;  how  natural 
the  tendency  is  to  turn  away  our  weak  and  trembling  eyes 
from  that  which  we  secretly  feel  we  cannot  steadily  con- 
template without  sorrow,  and  perplexity,  and  dismay.  Let 
this  go  on  for  a  while,  and  gradually,  but  surely,  the  gloomy 
work  is  done ;  the  troublesome  censurer  is  mute ;  the  light 
is  put  out,  and  the  Evil  One  finds  his  proper  home  in  the 
darkness ! 

And  all  this  proceeds  in  mysterious  silence  !  There  are 
no  immediate  visible  attestations  of  God's  displeasure  to 
startle  or  affright.  Among  His  judgments,  as  among  His 
mercies,  men  are  to  walk  for  the  most  part,  "  by  faith,  and 
not  by  sight ;"  Ave  must  believe,  not  see  our  doom.  And 
thus  we  wrest  His  very  patience  into  a  motive  for  con- 
temning His  majesty ;  "/or  my  nameh  sake  will  I  defer  mine 
anger,  and  for  my  praise  will  I  refrain"  (Isa.  xlviii.  9) ;  but 
we  cannot  understand  a  glory  thus  founded  in  compassion- 
ate endurance.  "Because  sentence  against  an  evil  work  is 
not  executed  speedily^  therefore  the  heart  of  the  sons  of  men 
is  fully  set  in  them  to  do  evil." — Eccles.  viii.  11.  All  our 
customary  conceptions  of  the  justice  of  heaven  are  taken 
from  the  tribunals  of  earth,  and  on  earth  punishment  ordi- 
narily dogs  the  heels  of  crime.  Hence,  where  the  punish- 
ment is  not  direct,  we  forget  that  the  guilt  can  have  existed. 
"These  things  hast  thou  done,  and  I  kept  silence;"  and 
that  silence  is  the  ground  of  the  corrupt  and  insulting  in- 
ference that  forms  the  sinner's  security  ;  "thou  thoughtest 
that  I  teas  altogether  such  an  one  as  thyself^ — Ps.  1.  21. 
"  Have  I  not  held  my  peace  even  of  old,  and  thoufearest  me 
U 


158  Self-Delusion  as  to  [SERM.  IX. 

notf — (Isa.  Ivii.  11)  ;  the  merciful  reluctance  of  our  God  to 
avenge,  becoming  itself  the  perpetual  encouragement  to 
despise  or  to  forget  the  vengeance  He  delays.  "  Let  favor," 
cries  the  Prophet,  "  be  shown  to  the  wicked,  yet  will  he 
not  learn  righteousness ;"  the  "  favor"  being  itself  too  cer- 
tainly the  reason,  or  the  confirmation,  of  his  thankless 
obstinacy ! — Isa.  xxvi.  10.  The  very  immutability  of  the 
laws  of  visible  nature,  the  ceaseless  recurrence  of  those 
vast  revolutions  that  make  the  annals  of  the  physical 
universe,  and  the  confidence  that  we  instinctively  entertain 
of  the  stability  of  the  whole  material  system  around  us, 
while  they  are  the  ground  of  all  our  earthly  blessings,  and 
while  they  are,  to  the  reason,  a  strong  proof  of  divine  super- 
intendence, are  as  certainly,  to  the  imagination,  a  constant 
means  of  deadening  our  impressions  of  the  possibility  or 
probability  of  divine  interposition.  Stricken,  and  it  may 
be,  perplexed  or  abashed  for  a  moment,  by  the  threats  or 
the  heart-searchings  of  the  pulpit,  men  go  forth  beneath 
the  open  canopy  of  heaven,  but  all  is  peaceful  there !  They 
breathe  freely!  The  nightmare  of  religious  terror  releases 
them.  Oh !  no,  it  cannot  be  that  these  hideous  imaginings 
are  real,  while  every  object  looks  tranquillity,  and  every 
countenance  is  smiling.  There  is  no  "  handwriting  upon  the 
wall"  of  Nature's  Temple  to  countersign  this  tale  of  terrors. 
No  voice  from  heaven  authenticates  the  preacher's  message ; 
no  consuming  fire  descends  upon  the  guilty  head  ;  the  volup- 
tuary, the  idolater  of  gain,  the  prosperous  God-despiser,  is 
not  stricken  in  our  streets ;  and  the  scoffing  sceptic  cries,  of 
Jehovah  (as  the  Prophet,  of  the  idol  god),  "  He  is  talking, 
or  He  is  pursuing,  or  He  is  on  a  journey,  or  perad venture 
He  sleepeth  and  must  be  awaked." — 1  Kings  xviii.  27. 
Awaked !  He  luill  awake !  Surely  the  God  will  break  forth 
at  length  from  His  hidden  sanctuary,  and  break  forth,  as  of 
old  upoQ  the  Mount,  "  in  fire  and  the  smoke  of  a  furnace." — 
Exod.  xix.  18.  The  invisible  shall  once  more  be  the  visible, 
nor  shall  Moses  alone  have  "  seen  the  Lord  face  to  face ;"  the 


SERM.  IX.]  our  State  hefore  God.  159 

words  and  sentences  of  the  immortal  Book  shall  no  longer 
be  the  breath  of  a  man's  voice,  to  which  men  listen  from 
decency,  and  drop  to  slumber  as  they  listen,  but,  them- 
selves, shall  breathe  and  live,  realized  in  a  divine  world 
with  a  divine  economy :  "  The  Lord  hath  prepared  His 
throne  for  judgment:  and  lie  shall  judge  the  world  in 
righteousness." — Ps.  ix.  7,  8.  And  when  that  cycle  that 
ends  in  judgment, — long,  it  may  be,  for  the  first  act  of  an 
eternity  may  well  be  no  dream  of  the  morning, — shall  have 
indeed  come  round,  what,  amid  all  the  terrors  of  the  day 
of  wrath,  shall  move  a  deeper  awe  than  that  fatal  frailty  of 
our  nature  to  which  your  thoughts  have  been  this  day 
directed  ?  What  more  appalling  to  conceive  than  that 
"unravelliDg  of  the  subtlest  intricacies  of  the  heart's  inward 
hypocrisy,  man's  shame  uncovered  to  himself,  his  imaginary 
innocence  exposed  to  the  scoff  of  the  tempter  that  suggested 
it,  his  darling^  deceits  drao^sfed  forth  and  disgjraced  before 
his  eyes?  A  search  close,  and  deep,  and  penetrating  as 
this,  is  the  perpetual  intimation  of  Scripture.  "  God  shall 
judge  the  secrets  of  men." — Eom  ii.  "Every  man's  work 
shall  be  made  manifest^^'' — (1  Cor.  iii.  13),  "  tried  by  fire^ 
"God  will  bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  darkness." — 1 
Cor.  iv.  5.  The  dead  are  "judged  out  of  those  things  which 
are  written  in  the  hooks,  according  to  their  works." — Eev.  xx. 
12.  Does  not  this  speak  of  inquiry  too  keen  to  be  baffled, 
too  authentic  to  be  deceived,  too  minute  to  be  evaded? 
"  All  the  ways  of  a  man  are  clean  in  his  own  eyes,  hut  God 
vjeifjheth  the  spirits  ^ — Pro  v.  xvi.  2.  The  wretch  who  was 
cast  into  outer  darkness,  for  lack  of  the  wedding-garment, 
evidently  came  in  not  dreaming  of  rejection.  Again  and 
again  our  Lord  represents  this  perpetuation  of  self-ignor- 
ance to  the  very  period  of  judgment,  as  one  of  the  most 
terrible  characteristics  of  that  hour  of  terrors.  Brethren !  if 
I  have  this  day,  under  God's  blessing,  prompted  one  of  you 
to  suspect  the  wiles  of  his  own  guilty  nature, — if  I  have  to 
any  purpose  impressed  on  you  the  certaiuty  that  "  if  you 


160         Self- Delusion  as  to  our  State  hefore  God.     [SERM.  ix. 

saj,"  or  imagine,  "  jou  have  no  sin,  yon  deceive  yourselves," 
will  you  not,  when  you  leave  this  house  of  prayer,  leave  it 
only  to  pray  yet  more  earnestly  in  private  to  that  God  who 
can  see  what  you  cannot  see,  and  urge  the  humble  avowal 
and  petition  of  the  Psalmist:  "Who  can  understand  his 
errors  ?  cleanse  thou  me  from  secret  faults !  for  thou  hast 
set  our  iniquities  before  thee  ;  our  secret  sins  in  the  light  of 
thy  countenance." — Ps.  xix.  12 ;  xc.  8. 


SERMON  X. 

THE   ETERNAL   LIFE   OF   CHRIST   IN   HEAVEN/ 

(Preached  in  the  Chapel  Royal,  Dublin  Castle,  on  Advent  Sunday,  1842.) 

Behold,  I  am  alive  for  evermore. — Revelation  i.  18. 

It  is  Christ  the  Son  of  God  who  speaks  these  words.  It 
is  He  who  is  "  the  Faithful  Witness  and  the  First  Begotten 
of  the  Dead,"  that  thus  declares  His  own  triumph,  and  ours 
in  His,  after  that,  passing  the  grave  and  gate  of  death.  He 
has  reached  his  destined  world  of  immortality.  From 
thence,  looking  back  once  more  with  pitying  love  into  the 
scene  of  His  trials.  He  utters  a  voice  strange  and  mysteri- 
ous, a  voice  already  solemnized  to  the  tone  of  that  invisible 
world  upon  which  he  has  entered,  a  voice  deep  with  the 
echoes  of  eternity,  hard  to  catch  or  comprehend,  as  though 
it  were  a  fragment  of  that  "  new  song  which  no  man  can 
learn  but  they  that  are  redeemed  from  the  earth." 

This,  indeed,  is  one  of  the  characteristics  that  confer  a 
peculiar  interest  on  the  Book  of  the  Eevelation.  Christ 
speaks,  it  is  true,  by  His  Spirit  in  all  Scripture ;  but  here, 
for  the  first  time  after  his  ascension  to  glory,  if  we  set 
aside  those  brief  addresses  to  St  Paul,  we  have  Him 
speaking  in  His  own  j'^erson  to  the  mortal  followers  He  left 

'  This  sermon  was  first  printed  in  "  Sermons  for  Sundays,  Festivals  and 
Fasts,  and  other  Liturgical  Occasions."  Edited  by  tlie  Rev.  Alexander 
Watson,  Curate  of  St.  John's,  Cheltenham.     Masters  :  London. 

14- 


162  The  Eternal  Life  of  [seem.  X. 

behind  Him.  The  veil  of  heaven  is  undrawn  ;  He  is  alone 
with  His  beloved  as  of  old.  But  a  change  has  passed  over 
Him  since  the  times  of  Capernaum  and  Bethany.  He  has 
selected  for  the  interview  that  dear  associate  who  was  wont 
to  recline  in  His  bosom;  but  now  "the  disciple  whom 
Jesus  loved,"  trembling  and  overpow^ered,  "  falls  at  his  feet 
as  dead."  The  Man  of  Sorrows  now  flashes  insufferable 
brightness  from  eyes  which  are  "as  aflame  of  fire," — "His 
feet  are  like  unto  fine  brass,  as  if  they  burned  in  a  furnace; 
and  His  voice  as  the  sound  of  many  waters.  He  hath  in 
His  right  hand  seven  stars,  out  of  His  mouth  goeth  a  sharp 
two-edged  sword,  and  His  countenance  is  as  the  sun  shineth 
in  his  strength."  The  change  of  language  is  not  less 
wonderful  than  the  change  of  appearance.  St  John,  in 
his  Gospel  record,  loves  to  transcribe  the  tenderest  expres- 
sions and  actions  of  his  Lord  ;  St  John,  in  his  Apocalypse, 
is  all  majesty,  ecstasy,  reverence,  and  awe.  It  was  once, 
"  little  children !  yet  a  little  time  and  I  am  w^ith  you ;"  it  is 
now,  "  I  am  the  First  and  the  Last, — He  that  liveth  and 
was  dead,  and  behold,  I  am  alive  for  evermore!" 

Yet  notwithstanding  all  this  pomp  of  celestial  grandeur, 
how  remarkable  is  the  minuteness  of  anxiety  which  the 
messages  of  this  wonderful  Being  manifest;  how  little  is 
forgotten  or  overlooked  in  His  vigilant  and  capacious 
survey !  He  is  represented  as  walking  in  the  midst  of 
seven  golden  lamps,  which  are  Churches,  to  typify  His  in- 
dwelling presence  and  pervading  care ;  and  each  Church  is 
warned  with  a  precision  and  particularity,  that  evince  how 
impossible  it  is  to  evade  His  scrutiny,  or  defeat  His  pur- 
poses of  retribution.  The  joys  of  the  heavenly  world  have 
not  distracted  His  attention  from  His  earthly  charge. 
Special  heresies,  false  and  unauthorized  teachers,  laclc  of 
discipline,  growing  neglect, — all  are  noted  and  admonished ; 
even  as  we  cannot  doubt  that,  at  this  hour,  yea,  in  this  very 
house  of  prayer,  the  same  invisible  Censor  is  awfully  present 
amongst  us,  noting  our  state  as  a  Church,  and  our  deeds  as 


SEEM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven.  163 

its  individual  members.  What  His  present  relations  may 
be  to  other  worlds, — to  the  vast  "universe  of  worlds  that 
spreads  around  us  through  the  infinitude  of  spaee, — we 
know  not,  nor  can  conjecture;  but  we  do  know  that  Ilis 
relation  to  us  is  as  intimate  and  incessant  as  if  no  other 
object  existed  to  occupy  His  thoughts.  In  His  highest 
glory  we  are  all  personally  interested ;  for  it  is  the  repre- 
sentative and  champion  of  our  race  that  is  thus  glorified ; 
in  Him  we  are  virtually  enthroned, — "kings  and  priests 
■unto  Grod  and  His  Father."  Yea,  even  now  the  more  the 
parties  sever,  the  closer  the  knot  is  bound.  In  the  passage 
before  us,  the  very  majesty  of  His  celestial  state,  far  from 
forming  a  ground  of  separation,  seems  made  the  ground  of 
consolation  and  confidence  to  His  poor  disciples ;  when  St 
John  sank  in  lifeless  terror  before  the  apparition  of  His 
glorified  Master,  the  divine  visitant  did  not  abridge  the 
splendors  of  His  presence,  but  gave  the  disciple  strength 
to  endure  them :  to  allay  the  shrinking  Apostle's  fears,  He 
did  not  (as  we  might,  perhaps,  expect)  speak  of  past 
humiliation,  but  of  present  glory.  He  did  not  diminish, 
but  assert^  the  full  magnificence  of  His  claims,  and  fixed 
them  as  the  basis  of  a  high  and  holy  trust: — ^'^ Fear  not!  I 
am  the  First  and  the  Last!" 

But  all  His  powers  and  privileges  of  being  our  eternal 
governor,  guide,  and  friend,  are  founded  in  the  great  decla- 
ration of  the  text :  "  I  am  He  that  liveth  and  was  dead ; 
and  behold,  I  am  alive  for  evermore  P'' 

At  this  holy  season  we  profess  more  specially  to  dis- 
cipline our  hearts  and  minds  for  His  coming.  Is  it  not 
well,  then,  that  we  consider  the  purposes  of  His  present 
glorious  life  in  Heaven,  no  less  than  of  His  former  lowly 
life  on  earth;  is  it  not  well  that,  "in  the  Spirit  on  the 
Lord's  Hay,"  we  should  endeavor  to  rise  to  the  grandeur  of 
His  actual  authority  in  Heaven,  in  order  that  we  may,  how- 
ever feebly,  learn  to  estimate  what  is  indeed  that  state  from 
which  He   is  to  come  among  us,  and  of  which  He  is,  by 


164  The  Eternal  Life  of  [SERM.  X. 

that  last  triumpliaut  Advent,  to  make  us  the  everlasting 
partakers  ? 

You  will  not  think  it  prolix  or  uninteresting,  if  I  go 
back  to  the  ideas  that  lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  subject, 
in  order  to  bring  you  gradually  to  conceive  it. 

The  great  features  of  the  Christian  Eevelation  are  familiar 
to  us  all.  Facts  are  delivered  to  us  in  the  New  Testament, 
and  their  reasons  sufficiently  assigned  to  enable  us  to  collect 
from  the  page  of  Scripture  these  mysterious  truths :  that 
whereas  a  Being  exists  through  eternity  as  the  sole  Cause 
and  Author  of  all,  it  became  necessary,  in  order  to  His 
purposes,  that  this  Being  should  in  some  inconceivable  way 
descend  into  the  limitations  of  the  world  of  time,  that  He 
should  unite  Himself  specially  with  humanity,  should 
thenceforward  be  inseparably  associated  with  it,  and  should, 
in  virtue  of  that  association,  be  empowered  to  carry  a 
portion  of  its  possessors,  by  Him  duly  gifted  for  the 
purpose,  through  all  the  glorious  fortunes  of  His  own 
human  immortality. 

Now  if  any  man  ask  me  to  account  for  these  facts,  to  re- 
duce them  to  any  known  principles,  to  show  how  they  are 
necessarily  bound  up  with  the  facts  and  principles  of  our 
own  daily  experience,  I  candidly  confess  that  I  can  go  but 
little  way  in  any  such  speculation.  Gleams  of  light  may 
here  and  there  be  caught  by  persevering  reason,  but  they 
are  only  gleams ;  "  since  the  world  began  was  it  not  heard 
that  any  man  opened  the  eyes  of  one  that  was  horn  blind ;" 
and  till  natural  reason  expands  into  supernatural  vision, 
we  must  still  be  content  to  "  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by 
sight."  These  facts  of  the  Scripture  story  concern  death 
and  life,  misery  and  blessedness;  and  perhaps  if  we  knew 
the  fall  nature  of  these^ — in  what  it  is  they  consist, — wo 
might  be  able  to  see  how  Christ's  marvellous  interference  is 
necessarily  connected  with  them ;  but  of  these,  though  we 
see  much,  we  know  little  or  nothing.  The  course  of  nature, 
and  of  that  better  nature  which  vvc  term  grace, — being  the 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven.  165 

outward  manifestation  of  the  secret  laws  of  God,  revolves 
around  us  like  some  vast  and  various  panorama ;  we  can 
see  the  mutual  relations  of  the  objects,  mark  their  positions 
and  their  recurrences ;  but  the  grounds  and  reasons  of  the 
whole,  the  mind  of  the  artist,  the  disposition  of  the  me- 
chanism, this  passes  the  eye,  this  lies  deeper  than  the  visi- 
ble surface,  and  to  those  who  cannot  move  from  their  ap- 
pointed post,  who  can  only  see,  not  touch  or  handle,  it  is, 
and  it  must  remain,  inscrutable. 

However,  the  case  is  less  hopeless,  when,  instead  of  at- 
tempting to  scrutinize  the  last  reasons  of  these  sublime 
dispensations,  w^e  endeavor  to  observe  and  methodize  what 
Kevelation  has  declared  concerning  them.  In  this  point 
of  view,  we  can  perceive  that  Christ,  who  "liveth  for 
evermore,"  is  set  forth  in  two  great  characters,  in  both  of 
which  His  eternal  life  in  glory  is  momentous  to  our  in- 
terests. 

In  every  theology  the  world  has  ever  known  or  imagined, 
it  has  been  in  some  form  or  other  acknowledged,  that  there 
is  carried  on  in  this  world  a  conflict  between  opposite  prin- 
ciples of  good  and  evil.  To  all  who  admit  that  the  visible 
world  is  under  any  invisible  control,  this  truth  is  so  mani- 
fest that  it  has  forced-  itself  upon  every  observer,  and 
become  embodied  in  every  religious  system.  The  most 
general,  though  figurative,  enunciation  of  this  truth  is  to 
be  found  in  those  theories,  spread  through  nearly  all  ori- 
ental countries,  which  speak  of  a  warfare  between  light  and 
darkness ;  a  phraseology  employed  in  inspired  Scripture, 
and  thence,  probably,  in  ancient  times,  borrowed,  exagge- 
rated, and  travestied  by  pagan  and  heretical  teachers. 
However  represented,  however  distorted,  the  fact  is  cer- 
tain ;  we  feel  it  within  us,  around  us,  above  us,  beneath  us ; 
every  department  of  nature,  by  turns,  is  seen  or  felt  to  be 
a  part  of  the  vast  battle-field,  on  which  incessantly  rages  a 
contest,  to  which  reason  is  perplexed  in  attempting  to  assign 
either  beginning  or  termination. 


166  The  Eternal  Life  of  [serm.  x. 

Now,  wlien  througTi  tlie  intricacy  of  the  engagement  we 
endeavor  to  penetrate  to  tlie  parties  engaged,  we  cannot 
hesitate  to  perceive  that  the  powers  of  evil  consist  of  two 
great  detachments,  which  speculative  men  have  called 
physical  and  moral  evil,  which  plain  people  are  familiar 
with  under  the  titles  of  pain  and  guilt, — pain,  which  seems 
naturally  to  tend  to  weakness  and  death  ;  and  guilt,  which 
by  a  process  as  natural,  descends  into  habitual  and  irreme- 
diable sin.  Distinct  as  are  these  two  forms  of  evil,  even  in 
our  own  experience  we  detect  traces  of  a  connection  between 
them ;  but  it  is  to  Eevelation  that  we  are  indebted  for  the 
clearest  intimation  of  their  secret  but  indissoluble  associa- 
tion ;  to  Kevelation,  which  announces  that  jfliysical  in- 
firmity and  death  entered  our  human  creation  in  the  foot- 
steps of  wilful  5m,  that  wilful  sin  is  the  forerunner  o^  pains 
eternal. 

To  these  powers,  then,  the  two  great  engines  of  the 
Adversary,  Christ  is  revealed  as  the  counteracting  agent. 
He  came  to  triumph  over  both ;  His  work  is  respectively 
directed  to  each.  In  relation  to  sm,  He  is  a  mediator  of 
justification  and  holiness ;  in  relation  to  death  and  imin,,  He 
is  the  author  of  endless  life  and  glory.  In  relation  to  both, 
it  is  our  security  and  our  blessedness,  that  He  is  "  alive  for 
evermore." 

My  immediate  business,  then,  is  to  assist  you  to  reflect 
how  the  immortality  of  Christ  in  heaven  bears  upon  both 
these  particulars. 

I.  As  regards  the  conflict  with  sin,  He  justifies  and  sanc- 
tifies. Both  are  based  upon  the  redemption  through  Uood; 
it  is  the  sacrifice  that  gives  our  Mediator  the  right,  either 
to  vindicate  or  to  purify  His  faithful.  And  of  both  the 
dispensation  is  secured  by  a  "  life  for  evermore." 

1.  How  then  is  the  perpetuity  of  Christ  in  heaven  con- 
nected with  the  work  o^ o\xt  justification? 

The  Apostle  in  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  shows  us,  at 
great  length,  the  immeasurable  superiority  of  the  dispensa- 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven,  167 

tion  of  Christ  to  the  typical  dispensation  of  Aaron  and  his 
descendants.  lie  shows  us  that  the  covenant  of  Christ  is 
better,  for  it  is  a  covenant  of  grace  ;  the  consecration  of 
Christ  better,  for  it  was  attested  with  the  solemnity  of  a 
divine  oath ;  the  tabernacle  of  Christ  better,  for  it  is  the 
eternal  heaven ;  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  better,  for  it  alone 
can  truly  take  away  sins  ;  the  priesthood  of  Christ  better, 
for  it  is  everlasting,  after  the  order  of  Melchisedek.  In 
the  Apostle's  discussion  of  these  last  two  particulars,  there 
emerges,  however,  an  apparent  difiiculty.  He  establishes 
the  pre-eminence  of  the  sacrifice  and  the  priesthood,  by  in- 
sisting on  the  singleness  of  the  sacrifice,  and  the  ^eripetuity 
of  the  priesthood.  On  the  one  hand  he  declares,  that 
"  Christ  was  once  offered  to  bear  the  sins  of  many,"  that 
^'•hy  one  offering  He  hath  perfected  for  ever  them  that 
are  sanctified,"  that  "  there  is  no  more  offering  for  sin."  On 
the  other  hand  he  affirms,  that  the  divine  priest  of  this 
sacrifice  is  constituted  priest  "  after  the  power  of  an  endless 
life^''  in  distinction  from  the  perishing  descendants  of 
Aaron ;  that  He  is  a  "  priest /orez;er;"  that  He  hath  an  "  in- 
transmissihle  priesthood,"  because  He  ^^  continueth  ever  ;"  that 
He  is,  in  this  priestly  office,  "  able  to  save  them  to  the 
uttermost  that  come  unto  God  by  Him,  seeing  He  ever 
liveth  to  make  intercession  for  them."  This  priesthood  of 
Christ,  then,  being  ^jerpe^Jwa?,  yet  employing  but  a  single 
sacrificial  act,  it  must  consist  in  a  constant  reference  to  that 
sacrifice,  of  which  His  own  blessed  person  stands  in  heaven 
as  the  und3dng  memorial.  Our  first  free  remission  in  bap- 
tism, our  subsequent  pardon  of  daily  transgression  by  re- 
pentant faith,  our  felicity  for  eternity  (so  far  as  it  results 
on  acquittal  of  guilt),  all  are  issued  from  the  treasury  of 
celestial  grace,  in  virtue  of  this  repeated  exhibition  of  the 
justifying  presence  of  Christ.  It  is  thus  that  He  was 
^^ raised  for  our  justification;"  thus  that  He  is  a  "priest 
upon  His  throne  f  thus  that  "we  are  saved  by  His  lifef 
— this  constant  manifestation  in  heaven  exactly  correspond- 


168  The  Eternal  Life  of  [SERM.  X. 

ing  to  the  memorial  wliicli  we  offer  in  tlie  earthly  kingdom 
of  Christ,  in  that  most  solemn  act  of  religion,  which,  in  the 
symbols  of  the  body  and  blood  of  Christ,  represents  His 
sacrifice  to  the  sight  of  God.  He  became  hnman  that  he 
might  save ;  His  perpetuated  humanity  is,  then,  in  heaven, 
the  token  and  warrant  of  salvation,  the  vestment  of  the 
divine  priesthood ;  that  we  should  be  there  recognized  as 
blessed,  it  is  enough  that  the  Son  of  God  be  there  recog- 
nized a  man.  In  this  view  how  deeply  interesting  is  it  to 
contemplate  those  mystical  pictures  which  the  New  Testa- 
ment now  and  then  gives  us  of  His  occupations  in  that 
wondrous  abode !  The  interests  of  the  universe  are 
dependent  on  His  fiat,  yet  amid  all  those  complicated  in- 
terests. He  is  still  a  man,  and  busy  for  men.  At  those 
majestic  levees,  where  He,  "by  whom  the  worlds  were 
made,"  surrounds  His  throne  with  the  directing  powers  of 
the  innumerable  orbs  He  first  summoned  into  being,  amid 
the  glittering  millions  that  encompass  Him,  the  marvellous 
tale  is  whispered  that  the  Sovereign  of  all  that  infinity  of 
glory  has  yet  a  bond  of  special  and  thrilling  tenderness, 
that  links  Him  with  one  little  province  in  creation.  Our 
names  are  spoken  of  with  awe.  The  human  heir  of  eternal 
life  is  regarded  as  something  altogether  peculiar  and  con- 
secrated. Angels  look  forward  with  eager  interest  to  the 
hour  when  they  who  by  so  singular  a  connection  are  now 
"one  with  Christ,"  shall  enter  into  the  visible  unity  of  His 
eternal  kingdom ! 

2.  But  in  relation  to  His  overthrow  of  sin,  the  eternal 
life  of  Christ  in  heaven  is  yet  more  directly  the  fountain 
of  blessing  to  us,  in  being  the  immediate  source,  not  only 
of  justification,  but  of  holiness ;  not  only  of  gracious  accept- 
ance into  the  favor  of  God,  but  of  all  the  bright  train  of 
inward  graces,  by  which  that  favor  effectuates  itself  in  us. 

It  is  the  perpetual  lesson  of  Scripture,  that  we  should 
fix   our   hearts    in    entire   dependence    on   Christ  Jesus. 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven,  169 

"  Without  me  ye  can  do  nothing,"  is  the  warning  of  Christ 
to  His  followers  in  every  age  as  well  as  the  Apostolic. 
He  suspends  us  on  Himself  for  our  whole  spiritual  exist- 
ence ;  He  will  have  us  trace  every  emotion  of  faith,  hope, 
and  love,  to  His  bounty.  We  know  the  force  of  ordinary 
human  attachments,  how  self  seems  annihilated,  the  whole 
being  merged  and  lost  in  the  being  of  another ;  but  what 
an  attachment  is  this,  where  not  only  the  object  is  given 
us,  but  the  feelings  that  are  to  meet  and  embrace  the 
object.  This  He  effects  by  that  wondrous  indwelling  with 
which  He  has  promised  to  purify  our  nature  into  kindred, 
into  sameness  with  His  own  ;  it  is  the  Christ  within  the 
heart  that  seeks  and  covets  the  Christ  beyond  it ! 

Now  this  communication  is  no  less  necessary  in  heaven 
than  on  earth.  He  must,  therefore,  be  alive  not  only  now, 
but  "  evermore ;"  because  He  is  to  preserve  us  in  this  state 
for  evermore.  If  the  holiness  be  everlasting,  the  source 
that  supplies  it  must  be  everlasting  too.  You  must  not 
look  upon  these  affections  as  temporary ;  as  though  the 
feelings  of  the  Christian  towards  his  Eedeemer  were  but 
elements  of  the  present  preparatory  state,  and  unnecessary 
or  superseded  in  the  world  of  glory.  We  have  no  reason 
to  suppose  that  the  dependence  on  Christ  shall  ever  cease ; 
our  very  exaltation  shall  be  but  to  feel  that  dependence 
more  nearly,  to  lean  on  that  arm  more  trustingly,  to  look 
up  to  those  divine  eyes  with  more  affectionate  confidence. 
ISTot  only  in  the  dreary  desert,  but  "  coming  iq:)  from  the 
wilderness,"  the  bride  in  the  mystical  song  is  supported  by 
her  beloved.  The  Lamb  who  on  earth  was  declared  to  be 
"  the  Light  of  the  world,"  is  in  heaven  equally  declared  to 
be  "  the  Light  thereof r  In  the  infinite  progression  of  holi- 
ness that  belongs  to  an  infinite  existeuce  of  glory,  we  shall 
be  but  drawing  more  and  more  freely  from  an  infinite 
source ;  the  Holy  One  that  "  inhabiteth  eternity"  is  inex- 
haustible as  the  eternity  He  inhabits.  Christ  is  as  necessary 
to  the  heavenliness  of  heaven,  as  He  is  to  the  holiness  of 
15 


170  The  Eternal  Life  of  [SERM.  X. 

earth.  In  the  very  height  and  rapture  of  the  sanctity  of 
heaven,  when  every  thought  of  all  its  radiant  mnlktudes 
is  captive  to  the  obedience  of  Christ,  and  knows  its  happi- 
ness only  in  that  blessed  bondage,  were  the  horrid  concep- 
tion possible  that  Christ  Himself  should  suddenly  cease  to 
exist,  that  instant  every  ray  of  its  holiness  would  expire  ; 
not  merely  the  heart  would  seek  in  vain  its  resting-place, 
it  would  no  longer  possess  the  desire  to  seek  it :  not  merely 
the  light  would  be  vjasted  in  the  void  abyss,  it  would  be 
quenched  utterly  and  forever ! 

He,  then,  that  is  "  alive  for  evermore,"  is  thus  alive  that 
He  may  be  to  us  the  everlasting  fouTitain  of  holiness.  The 
abiding  sanctity  of  His  nature  is  the  condition  of  ours.  In 
the  eternal  laws  of  the  divine  reason,  it  is  decreed  that 
Christ  shall  be  the  authorized  dispenser  of  spiritual  blessed- 
ness to  His  redeemed ;  that  every  grace  shall  flow  through 
this  channel,  or  cease  to  flow ;  and  to  this  law,  universal  in 
the  world  of  time  and  sense,  eternity  can  bring  no  termina- 
tion, heaven  present  no  exception.  The  memorable  declara- 
tion of  St  Paul  may,  indeed,  occur  to  you,  where  He  tells  us 
how  the  Son,  having  Himself  subdued  all  things,  shall 
"  become  subject  to  Him  that  put  all  things  under  Him, 
that  God  may  be  all  in  all."  But  if  there  come  a  period 
when  as  Mediatorial  Governor  the  Son  shall  "  deliver  up 
the  Idngdom  to  the  Father,"  and  as  human  shall  be  to  Him 
"  subject,"  it  is  also  as  certainly  declared  that  He  and  His 
shall  ^^  reign  for  ever  and  ever,"  His  divinity  still  perpetu- 
ating His  essential  sovereignty  to  Himself  and  indirectly 
to  them :  nor,  though  the  functions  of  Christ  as  the  regal 
guide  and  guardian  of  His  Church  in  its  corporate  capacity 
shall  terminate  when  the  need  of  that  guardianship  expires 
in  the  great  consummation  which  St  Paul  designates  "  the 
end,"  does  this  give  us  reason  to  doubt  that  even  in  that 
blessed  period  when  "  God  shall  be  all  in  all,"  the  Second 
Person  of  the  Blessed  Trinity,  the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  shall 
still  continue  to  us,  as  individuals,  the  immediate  conveyor 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven.  171 

of  spiritual  strengtli  and  peace.  He  may  resign  His  office, 
no  longer  needed,  of  delegated  administrator  of  the  empire 
of  God ;  but  our  deeper  spiritual  union  with  Him  shall 
never  be  dissolved  or  weakened.  Once  His,  we  are  His 
for  ever. 

Thus  we  have  seen  how  it  is  that  the  eternal  life  of 
Christ  Himself  in  heaven  is  the  warrant  of  the  eternal  over- 
throw of  sin, — alike  of  sin  in  its  condemnation,  and  of  sin 
in  its  inherency.  On  His  life  is  suspended  the  prostration 
of  moral  evil  in  the  universe.  It  shall  continue  to  exist, 
but  only  as  the  dark  monument  of  His  triumph ;  it  shall 
exist,  but  in  chains,  and  feebleness,  and  defeat. 

II.  And  now  you  must  permit  me  to  direct  jomv  view 
to  the  other  aspect  of  this  great  subject,  to  that  which 
regards  ^jA?/s2ca?  evil^ — pain  and  death,  the  result  of  sin,  but 
from  sin  distinct;  and  to  invite  you  to  behold  Him  who  is 
*'  alive  for  evermore,"  alive  as  the  eternal  antagonist  and 
conqueror  of  these  gloomy  powers.  It  is  a  blessed  thing 
to  worship  Him  as  the  Source  of  acceptance  and  holiness; 
it  is  not  less  a  privilege  to  see  in  Him  the  radiant  centre  of 
life  itself  and  happiness,  to  all  that  truly  lives. 

When  the  Lord  appeared  in  this  ecstatic  vision  to  St 
John,  and  announced  His  own  immortality,  he  declared  it 
the  prerogative  of  that  immortality,  that  He  held  "  the  keys 
of  death  and  of  Hades ;"  that  is,  that  He  possessed  the  power 
of  liberating  from  the  bonds  of  death  those  who  were,  or 
were  to  be,  confined  in  that  intermediate  state, — or  "  guard- 
house," as  St  Peter  calls  it, — which,  as  we  may  collect  from 
Rev.  XX.  13,  extends  its  privilege  of  restriction  over  all 
human  spirits,  from  the  mortal  hour  to  the  day  of  the  great 
white  throne  and  the  final  judgment. 

In  Scripture  we  know  that  human  death  is  declared  to 
be  the  result  of  hum^an  sin ;  the  result  in  each  instance  of  a 
curse  perpetuated  from  Adam.  We  are  told  that  "  sin  hath 
reigned  unto  death,"  that  "sin  entered  into  the  world,  and 
death  hy  sin,"  that  the  condemning  law  is  "  the  law  of  sin, 


172  The  Eternal  Life  of  [SERM.  X. 

and  deatli,"  that  the  author  of  sin  is  "he  that  had  the poiver 
of  death."     That  eternal  overthrow,  then,  of  sin,  by  the 
eternal  life  of  Christ,  of  which  we  have  already  spoken, 
naturally  involves  the  overthrow  of  that  which  is  but  a  con- 
sequence of  sin ;  and  the  conquest  of  death,  again,  is  the 
conquest  of  all, — pain,  disquietude,  disease, — that  disposes 
to  it,  and  in  it  ultimately  terminates.     But  the  Scriptures 
are  more  direct  in  their  intimations.     They  set  before  us 
"  death"  as  manifested  in  two  forms ;  and  Christ  as  the 
destroyer  of  one,  the  ruler  and  restrictor  of  the  other. 
These  are  mysteriously  entitled  "  the  first"  and  the  "  second" 
death ;  both,  as  we  may  infer  from  the  sameness  of  the 
name,  successive  developments,  first  on  a  less,  afterwards 
on  a  vaster  and  more  terrible  scale,  of  that  common  prin- 
ciple, whatever  it  be,  of  death  which  is  the  original  and 
stated  "  wages  of  sin."     The  first  form  of  death  results  on 
the  sin  of  nature,  and  is  therefore  universal  as  it  is ;  the 
second  form,  which  perhaps  is  naturally  the  sequal  or  ma- 
turity of  the  former,  is,  by  the  mercy  of  God,  restricted  to 
unpardoned  guilt.     To  both,  Christ,  "  who  is  our  life,"  is 
the   appointed   adversary,    and   over   both   He   triumphs, 
though  in  different  ways;  over  \hQ first  by  raising  all  man- 
kind, over  the  second  by  conducting  His  faithful  to  glory. 
And  in  every  stage  of  the  fortunes  of  these  His  ransomed 
followers,  He  is  Himself  their  forerunner;  asserting  His 
supremacy  through  every  form  of  existence  by  entering  it, 
and  carrying  the  principle  of  life  which  was  within  Him 
victoriously  through  them  all.     Having  been  born  as  we 
are.  He  died  as  we  must  die,  entered  the  region  of  departed 
souls  as  we  must,  rose  from  that  state  as  we  are  to  rise, 
ascended   to   heaven   as    His   servants   shall    yet   ascend. 
Through  every  stage  before  the  last,  mankind,  in  the  mere 
changes  of  existence,  accompany  Him;  in  the  last,  He  and 
His  stand  separate  and  alone.      An   awful  balance   tlien 
remains,  a  terrible  residue  to  be  placed  to  the  account  of 
the  principle  and  power  of  evil ;  a  residue  so  terrible  as  to 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven.  173 

urge  us  to  exclaim,  is  "Death,"  indeed,  "swallowed  up  iu 
victory"  with  such  a  tribute  as  this,  of  miserable  spirits, 
paid  into  the  gloomy  treasury  of  "  the  second  death"  ? 
And  we  can  only  answer,  that  the  boundless  power  of 
Christ  being  sufficiently  manifested  in  the  salvation  of  the 
blessed,  His  mysterious  justice  waives  the  prosecution  of 
His  conquest ;  while  Death  and  Hades  being  (in  the  strong 
expression  of  inspiration)  ^^cast  into  the  lake  of  fire,"  merged 
in  their  own  horrible  consummation,  they  are  thereby  de- 
clared to  be  limited  for  all  eternity  to  that  dark  realm. 
Thus  the  eternity  of  torment,  mysterious  and  terrible  as  it 
doubtless  is,  in  nowise  affects  the  universality  of  Christ's 
victory  over  the  powers  of  evil.  Christ,  Himself  exalted 
to  glory,  fixes  the  barriers  to  the  energies  of  pain  and 
death ;  annihilates  not  the  foe,  but  imprisons  him ;  makes 
him  the  accursed  minister  of  His  own  dread  vengeance; 
and  publicly  manifests  to  the  universe,  that  if  misery  exist, 
it  exists  only  as  a  permitted  agent  in  the  awful  administration 
of  God.  He,  the  source  of  life,  is  still  predominant  over  all, 
and  known  to  be  so ;  known  yet  more  deeply  to  be  so  as 
the  life  He  gives  is  mantling  around  Him  into  intenser 
glory.  Life  and  happiness  again  are  one ;  for  happiness  is 
bound  up  in  the  very  essence  and  nature  of  the  life  that 
Christ  bestows;  they  are  inseparable  as  substance  and 
quality,  as  the  surface  and  its  color ! 

In  truth,  there  is  an  eternal  alliance,  in  the  primitive 
counsel  of  Cod,  between  life  and  happiness,  of  which  faint 
shadowings  are  sometimes  caught  on  earth,  but  which  i^i 
fully  solemnized  in  heaven, — in  the  marriage  of  the  Lamb, 
— alone.  For  even  in  earth  beings  are  made  alive  in  order 
to  be  happy ;  this  is  the  original  law  and  the  general  rule ; 
the  opposing  instances,  manifold  as  they  be,  are  all  excep- 
tions, the  clear  results  of  supervening  evil.  The  weakest 
eye  (so  it  be  "  single")  can  detect  that  these  miseries  are 
no  part  of  the  original  Divine  Ideal,  but  intrusions  of 
some  darker  foreign  element :  unforbidden  of  God,  they 

15^ 


174  The  Eternal  Life  of  [SERM.  X. 

are  yet  not  from  God.  There  is  no  instance  producible, — 
setting  aside  manifest  disease  and  displacement, — of  a 
living  creature  expressly  organized  by  our  Creator  for  a 
life  of  agony.  He, — a  Father  to  the  children  of  His  love, 
— He  meant  that  life  should  be  blessedness ;  if  it  be  other- 
wise, "an  enemy  hath  done  this."  Would  you  apprehend 
how  even  our  lost  world  retains  dim  traces  of  His  purpose 
that  Life  and  Happiness  should  be  for  ever  one  ?  Go  forth 
into  that  world,  though  it  is  a  sad  world ;  gaze  on  that  age 
which  Christ  Himself  made  the  living  symbol  of  His 
kingdom,  to  perpetuate  a  lovely  tradition  of  heaven  to 
every  generation ;  behold  the  child  when  such  as  childhood 
should  be,  in  the  joyousness  of  that  freedom  he  never 
again  on  earth  must  know ;  mark  the  delight  of  his  young 
activities,  the  bliss  of  growing  energies,  the  bright  un- 
sullied fancy,  the  cheerful  confidence,  the  boundless  hope ; 
behold  him — the  little  type  of  heaven— alone  with  nature 
in  her  summer  noon,  and  asking  nothing  more  of  earth  or 
sky  than  that  the  one  should  thus  blossom,  the  other  thus 
beam,  for  ever ;  and  you  will  be  able,  in  some  faint  way, 
to  conceive  how  the  mere  consciousness  of  existence  may 
be  happiness.  And  thus  Scripture,  as  if  instinctively,  uses 
the  word  "life"  to  imply  felicity,  and  "eternal  life"  to  imply 
eternal  felicity ;  for  in  the  first  draft  of  creation  to  live  was 
to  be  blest.  Glorious  alliance  I  it  was  bound  on  earth, 
when  God  saw  that  all  here  "was  good;"  it  shall  again  be 
bound  eternally  in  heaven,  when  He  who  is  "  alive  for  ever- 
more" shall,  in  the  power  and  diffusion  of  that  life,  spread 
around  him  happiness  with  it  co-extensive  and  commingled ; 
when  the  Sun  of  the  celestial  world,  gathering  round  it  all 
the  revolving  orbs  of  blessedness,  shall  shed  from  its  inex- 
haustible depths  not  heat  alone  nor  light  alone,  but  heat 
and  light  inseparably  blended,  the  heat  that  quickens  all 
it  touches  into  life,  the  light  that  irradiates  that  life  to 
glory  I 

Oh!    brethren,  if   this  be  indeed   the   power   and   the 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven.  175 

purpose  of  Christ  towards  His  elect;  if  be  has  willed  thus 
to  find  His  highest  happiness  ia  making  us  happy,  and 
lives  eternally  that  we  may  live;  if  such  prospects  as  these 
be  our  covenanted  inheritance, — everlasting  communion 
with  the  very  Lord  of  glory,  immersion  in  the  very 
fountain-head  of  life  and  light,  capacities  of  knowledge  and 
happiness  increased,  and  still  filled  and  satisfied  as  they 
increase,  earthly  sorrows  forgotten,  or  remembered  only 
that  we  may  feel  how  they  are  consumed  and  lost  in  the 
bliss  of  His  immediate  presence, — if  you,  and  I,  and  all  of 
us  are  called, — still  called  to  this,  entreated  by  its  very 
Author,  besought  by  Christ  Himself,  as  of  old  from  the 
Cross,  so  now  from  the  throne,  to  share  it,  and  besought 
upon  the  one  condition  of  turning  to  Him  in  simplicity 
and  obedient  love,  that  is,  besought  to  be  happy  hereafter 
on  the  sole  condition  of  being,  in  the  purest  and  deepest 
sense,  happy  now, — what  words  can  describe  the  folly,  the 
fatuity,  the  madness  of  those  who,  professing  to  believe  this 
truth,  will  not  turn  this  truth  to  account, — will  resolve, — 
and  to  delay  is  to  resolve, — rather  to  cling  to  nothingness, 
emptiness,  uncertainty, — to  moments  of  ease,  hours  of 
nnquiet,  a  cloudy  day  at  best  for  their  life,  an  everlasting 
midnight  for  their  eternity, — than  to  seek  the  substance  of 
immutable  happiness  in  God,  to  bid  boldly  for  this  mighty 
prize,  to  attempt  at  last  the  diviner  life,  and,  through  good 
report  and  evil  report, — for  what  matters  the  scorn  of  him 
whom  God  shall  yet  scorn  ? — through  trial  and  danger, — 
for  what  is  dangerous  in  competition  with  death  eternal? — 
to  seek  the  one  sole  aim  of  reasonable  man, — the  "inherit- 
ance incorruptible  and  undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away, 
reserved  in  heaven  for  them  who  are  kept  by  the  power  of 
God  through  faith  unto  salvation  !" 

So  then,  brethren,  we  have  now  seen, — as  far  as  Scripture 
deigns  to  guide  our  feeble  steps, — the  mighty  purposes  of 
the  eternity  of  Christ  in  heaven.  We  have  learned  to 
adore  in  that  celestial  life  of  His  the  source  of  pardon,  of 


176  The  Eternal  Life  of  [SERM.  X. 

holiness,  and  of  bliss,  immortal  as  itself.  Every  blessing 
that  belongs  to  our  inheritance  centres  in  this  great  truth, 
that  He  "who  was  dead"  is  now  "alive  for  evermore."  In 
Him  newly  born,  we  in  Him  die,  rise,  and  ascend ;  our  life 
is  the  reflection  of  His ;  if  spiritually  quickened  by  Him, 
we  too,  like  Him,  are  even  now,  and  hereafter  are  destined 
3^et  more  gloriously  to  be,  "alive  for  evermore!" 

"For  evermore!"  Words  easily  uttered,  but  in  compre- 
hension vaster  than  human  thought  can  grasp,  till  man, 
entering  upon  eternity,  shall  rise  to  faculties  fitted  for  the 
scene!  "For  evermore:"  for  an  existence  to  which  the 
age  of  the  earth,  of  the  starry  heavens,  of  the  whole  vast 
universe,  is  less  than  a  morning  dream ;  for  a  life  which, 
after  the  reiteration  of  millions  of  centuries,  shall  begin 
the  endless  race  with  the  freshness  of  infancy,  and  all  the 
eagerness  that  welcomes  enjoyments  ever  new.  The  blight 
of  all  our  earthly  pleasures  is  decay;  our  suns  have  scarcely 
risen  when  they  set;  we  have  but  just  persuaded  ourselves 
that  we  are  happy  when  the  happiness  is  vanished.  Pining 
after  something  that  will  endure,  we  are  not  to  be  for  ever 
disappointed;  born  for  eternity,  eternity  shall  surely  be 
ours.  But  oh ! — horrible  thought ! — if  all  this  tendency  to 
the  eternal,  this  longing  for  everlasting  mansions,  be  to 
any  of  us  but  the  prophetic  twilight,  the  forecast  shadow 
of  unending  darkness!  Oh!  agony  insufferable,  if  the 
eternal  life  of  Christ, — the  Christian's  warrant  of  justifica- 
tion, of  sanctity,  of  happiness, — be  but  the  guarantee  of  a 
death  as  everlasting  as  His  everlasting  life;  if  the  pro- 
longation of  His  divine  existence  be  but  the  seal  and  surety 
of  that  never-dying  death  which,  by  a  dread  union  of 
opposites,  seems  described  as  protracting  dissolution  itself 
into  immortality !  Invoke  not  Christ  in  such  an  hour ! 
All-merciful  now,  He  cannot  pity  then ;  an  inconceivable 
change  shall  have  passed  over  His  nature ;  and  perhaps  he 
is  declared  to  resign  "the  kingdom"  to  the  pure  Godhead 
after  the  final  judgment,  for  this  very  reason,  that  we  may 


SERM.  X.]  Christ  in  Heaven.  177 

know  Ilirn  no  longer  able,  as  a  man  and  brother,  to  com- 
passionate and  intercede.  The  love  for  sinners  that  fixed 
Ilim  on  the  cross  expires  in  the  hour  of  judgment.  Turn 
not  away  from  these  dread  thoughts !  The  things  are  true 
whether  we  will  receive  them  or  not ;  our  doubts  or  dis- 
belief cannot  shake  the  foundations  of  the  throne  of  God. 
The  time  shall  come, — we  know  not  ivhen^  we  know  not 
how^ — but  come  it  shall,  when  every  deathless  spirit  within 
these  walls  shall  awake  to  the  world  of  retribution,  and 
each  shall  be  enabled  to  utter  for  himself  the  words  of 
Christ:  '"Behold  /  am  alive  for  evermore;'  the  hour  at 
length  is  come,  and  I  too  am  immortal!  This  is, — this  is 
the  light  of  eternity  that  glares  around  me ;  these  are  the 
anthems  of  angels  1"  Hoio  such  words  shall  be  uttered, 
whether  with  the  anguish  of  anticipated  woe,  with  the 
remembrance  of  years  misspent,  warnings  despised,  oppor- 
tunities neglected;  or  with  the  blessed  recollection  of  faith 
unwavering  amid  a  hostile  world,  of  tempers  meek  and 
loving  in  despite  of  all  its  bitterness,  of  temptations  met 
and  vanquished,  of  services  that,  never  indeed  sufficient, 
were  still  sincere, — those  humble  but  rapturous  recollec- 
tions that  in  their  fearful  joy  are  bright  already  with  the 
glory  they  herald; — ivhich^  I  say,  shall  be  your  destiny 
when  that  long-promised  morn  shall  have  dawned,  as  under 
God  it  lies  with  yourselves,  may  God  in  His  mercy  enable 
you  this  day  to  resolve ! 


SERMON  XI 


THE  CANAANITE  MOTHER  A  TYPE  OF  THE  GENTILE 
CHURCH. 


Then  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  her,  0  woman,  great  is  thy  faith  ;  be 
unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt  I — Matthew  xv.  28. 


These  are  the  last  words  of  Christ  to  one  who  had  per- 
severed to  trust  in  nis  mercy,  through  silence,  and  exclu- 
sion, and  reproach;  who  had  beheld  the  flow  of  His 
boundless  benevolence  checked,  and  its  glory  clouded ; — 
yet  had  penetration  enough  to  detect  the  divine  reality 
concealed  under  these  harsh  appearances,  to  read  a  willing 
heart  throusrh  the  veil  of  unwillinoj  words,  to  believe  in 
Ilim  in  spite  of  Himself,  and,  amid  every  assumption  of 
coldness  and  severity,  to  see  in  Him  the  one  unaltered  in- 
carnation of  divine  love.  The  woman  of  Canaan  comes 
forth  out  of  the  depths  of  a  dark  and  degrading  idolatry,  to 
be  an  example,  forever,  to  the  world  of  light,  and  privilege, 
and  profession.  A  rescued  heathen  is  chosen  to  be  the 
model  and  instructress  of  the  Church  of  the  living  Grod. 
He  who,  of  old,  went  to  "  Ur  of  the  Chaldees"  to  find  a 
father  for  believers,  has  chosen  his  fairest  and  fullest  ex- 
ample of  Gospel  faith  from  the  worshippers  of  Baal  and 
of  Dagon.  It  is  indeed  deserving  of  remark,  that  the  most 
eminent  instances  of  faith  in  Christ's  claims  and  powers 
recorded  in  the  Gospel  history,  should  have  been  found 
among  the  Gentile  world  ;  that  of  the  centurion  (of  whom, 
even  after  the  call  of  the  Apostles,  our  Lord  declares  that 


SERM.  XL]        The  Canaanite  Mother  a  Type^  etc.  179 

He  had  "  not  found  so  great  faith,  no  not  in  Israel,")  and 
the  still  more  interesting  case  which  the  text  brings  before 
ns.  Everything  in  the  life  and  actions  of  Christ  is  profound 
in  purpose,  and  pregnant  with  meaning ;  and  surely  we 
can  discover  in  this  an  ordinance  of  the  most  perfect  pro- 
priety. If  it  be  through  the  special  virtue  and  dignity  of 
the  grace  of  faith  that  the  new  dispensation  is  enabled  to 
make  itself  commensurate  with  the  world,  it  seems  pecu- 
liarly appropriate,  that  the  chief  examples  of  that  grace, 
which  was  thus  to  equalize  the  claims  of  all  the  races  of 
mankind,  should  have  been  selected  from  among  those  who 
Avere  to  gain  the  advantage  in  this  equalization.  This 
farther  typical  purport  seems  to  have  been  present  to  our 
Lord's  mind,  when,  after  commenting  on  the  Centurion's 
faith,  he  rose  to  that  extension  of  it  which  was  yet  to  em- 
brace the  world  :  "  I  say  unto  you.  That  many  shall  come 
from  the  east  and  west,  and  shall  sit  down  with  Abraham, 
and  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven  ;  but  the 
children  of  the  kingdom  shall  be  cast  out."  Nor,  perhaps, 
is  it  altogether  unworthy  of  notice  in  this  point  of  view, 
that  when  the  Church  was  indeed  to  be  declared  a  Church 
of  Gentile  no  less  than  Jew,  the  first  believer, — the  common 
ancestor  of  the  world  of  evangelized  heathen,' — was  a  man 
holding  the  same  office,  and,  it  would  appear,  similarly 
connected  in  habits  and  disposition  with  the  Jews ;  for  as 
it  is  said  of  the  Centurion  of  the  Acts,  that  he  was  "  one 
that  feared  God,  and  gave  much  alms  to  the  people,  and 
prayed  to  God  alway," — so  is  it  likewise  said  of  the  Cen- 
turion of  the  Gospel,  that  "  he  loved  their  nation^  and  had 
built  them  a  synagogue."  And  I  may  add  that  this  re- 
spectful attachment  to  the  ancient  people  of  Jehovah  is  very 
discernible  in  the  language  of  our  immediate  subject,  the 
believing  Canaanite ;  for  she  not  only  addressed  her 
Eedeemer  in  her  supplication  as  "the  Son  oi David^  (a  title 
which  could  appear  honorable  only  to  one  who  sympathized 
with  the  feelings  and  prepossessions  of  a  Jew),  but  even 


180  The  Canaanite  Mother  [SERM.  XI. 

acceded  to  the  justness  of  our  Lord's  strong  expressions 
wlien  He  classed  her  nation  as  "dogs"  in  comparison  with 
the  long-adopted  "children"  of  God.  If  this  remark  be 
well  founded  (that  the  prominent  examples  of  the  first 
heathen  elect  were  purposely  such  as  had  some  connection 
with  Israel),  it  may,  perhaps,  be  properly  considered  as  a 
continuation  of  that  wonderful  dispensation  of  heaven,  so 
observable  through  all  ancient  history,  which  made  the 
prosperity  or  adversity  of  heathen  nations  depend  largely 
on' their  treatment  of  the  Jewish  people,  a  dispensation 
which  has  rendered  the  Israelite  prophets  the  anticipative 
historians  of  the  chief  empires  of  antiquity ;  a  dispensation 
which,  as  the  Jews  are  undoubtedly  reserved  for  a  mys- 
terious future,  may  not,  perhaps,  have  ceased  so  completely 
as  we  are  apt  to  imagine.  "  Behold,  I  will  bring  again  the 
captivity  of  Jacob's  tents,  and  have  mercy  on  his  dwelling- 
places.  Their  children  also  shall  be  as  aforetime,  and  their 
congregation  shall  be  established  before  me,  and  I  will 
punish  all  that  oppress  ihemr — Jer.  xxx.  18,  20.  "Assem- 
ble yourselves,  and  come!"  cries  the  Spirit  of  God  by  the 
Prophet  Ezekiel  (xxxix.  17) ;  "  gather  j^ourselves  on  every 
side  to  my  sacrifice  that  I  do  sacrifice  for  you,  even  a  great 
sacrifice  upon  the  mountains  of  Israel,  that  ye  may  eat  flesh 
and  drink  blood.    Ye  shall  eat  the  flesh  of  the  mighty,  and 

drink  the  blood  of  the  princes  of  the  earth And  I  will 

set  my  glory  among  the  heathen,  and  all  the  heathen  shall 
see  my  judgment  that  I  have  executed,  and  r)%y  hand  that 
I  have  laid  upon  themP  If  these  predictions  refer  to  times 
and  events  not  yet  elapsed  (as  seems  most  probable),  they 
would  seem  to  show  that  the  eye  of  God  is  not  yet  closed 
upon  the  oppressors  of  Judah  (a  crime  of  which  nearly  all 
European  nations  have  at  various  times  been  flagrantly 
guilty),  and  that,  like  their  own  Ark  wandering  among  the 
Philistines  of  old,  they  are  a  people  Avhose  indestructible 
consecration  to  heaven  makes  their  presence  among  the 
nations  of  the  earth  even  yet  a  mysterious  element  of  trial 


SERM.  XI.]  a  Tyi^QofiliQ  Gentile  Church.  181 

and  perplexity.  However  tliis  may  be,  tlie  clioice  of  the 
previous  friends  and  reverers  of  Israel,  as  tbe  special  in- 
stances of  Gentile  faith  in  Christ,  may  be  considered  in  a 
view  beyond  this  ;  not  merely  as  a  striking  exemplification 
of  that  law  of  gradual  transition  which  seems  to  pervade  all 
the  works  of  God,  spiritual  no  less  than  physical, — the 
heathen  being  partially  Judaized  before  he  becomes  wholly 
enlightened,  but  also  as  manifestly  rendering  these  in- 
stances more  appropriate  types  of  the  entire  work  of  Gen- 
tile conversion : — externally,  of  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel 
to  the  heathen  in  all  ages,  which  in  all  ages  must  include 
so  large  a  Jewish  element,  must  build  itself  upon  Jewish 
history,  authenticate  itself  by  Jewish  prophecy,  and  pro- 
claim its  great  subject  the  fulfilment  of  Jewish  types  ;  in- 
ternally of  the  parallel  story  of  the  Gospel  life  in  the  soul, 
which,  perhaps,  finds  every  man  more  or  less  a  Jew  in 
heart,  in  pride,  self-reliance,  spiritual  ignorance,  and  form- 
ality,— before  it  conducts  him  into  the  humility,  the  faith, 
the  illumination,  and  the  liberty  of  the  Gospel.  And  thus, 
enlarging  upon  the  subject,  we  might  not,  perhaps,  refine 
overmuch,  if  we  ventured  to  say  that  these  two  remarkable 
cases  (the  Centurion  and  the  Canaanite),  considered  as  re- 
corded fruits  of  the  revelation  of  Christ  to  the  Gentiles  in 
and  adjacent  to  the  immediate  scene  of  His  labors,  may 
stand  as  fitting  types  of  the  two  great  divisions  of  the  Gen- 
tile world,  as  designated  from  the  sons  of  [N'oah : — the 
Eoman  Centurion,  a  child  of  Japhet ;  the  Canaanite  mother, 
a  daughter  of  Ham ;  while  the  Jews  themselves,  the  Lord's 
direct  subjects,  "  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel"  to 
whom  he  was  "  sent,"  the  seed  of  Abraham  in  whom  the 
whole  earth  was  to  be  blest,  form  ample  representatives  of 
that  race  of  Shem,  who  only  are  wanting  to  complete  the 
universal  supremacy  of  Him  to  whom  it  was  promised, 
"  that  all  the  ends  of  the  world  should  turn  unto  him,  and 
that  all  the  kindreds  of  the  nations  should  worship  before 
him."  Thus,  even  during  the  cartblv  life  and  pilgrimage 
16 


182  The  Canaanile  Mother  [serm.  XI. 

of  Christ,  had  the  great  branches,  African,  and  eastern,  and 
western,  of  His  Catholic  Church,  their  seminal  representa- 
tives ;  single,  and  isolated,  and  obscure,  it  may  be, — but 
the  more  answerable  in  this  feebleness  of  their  infancy  to 
that  "  kingdom  of  heaven"  which  is  like  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed,  "  which  is  less  than  all  the  seeds  that  be  in  the  earth ; 
but  when  it  is  sown,  it  groweth  up  and  becometh  greater 
than  all  herbs,  and  shooteth  out  great  branches,  so  that  the 
fowls  of  the  air  may  lodge  under  the  shadow  of  it." 

Such  a  generalization  as  this,  of  simple  Gospel  incidents 
(whicli  can  scarcely  be  estimated,  I  beg  leave  to  say,  with- 
out patient  and  thoughtful  comparison),  seems  to  me  per- 
fectly warrantable.  But  as  many  prejudices,  from  various 
sources,  lie  against  every  attempt  to  see  in  Scripture  more 
than  Scripture  expressly  speaks,  I  will  occupy  the  second 
division  of  this  discourse  with  some  brief  considerations  on 
the  subject,  which  may  prepare  the  way  for  an  attempt, — 
simpler,  perhaps,  and  plainer, — to  penetrate  the  providential 
mystery  of  this  Canaanite's  gift  of  faith. 

I  confess,  then,  that  where  so  little  is  recorded  of  the 
most  wondrous  life  in  all  history,  I  cannot  forbear  expect- 
ing depths  of  undeveloped  mysteries  in  each  of  the  few 
incidents  selected  for  special  memorial.  And  in  this  as  in 
every  other  study,  though  men  may  indeed  transgress  by 
exaggeration,  I  fear  the  liability  will  always  be  much 
stronger  to  err  b}^  indolence,  oversight,  and  neglect.  It 
must,  indeed,  be  evident  to  every  one  that  the  life  of  Christ 
is  not  given  to  us  in  the  fashion,  or  for  the  purposes,  of 
ordinary  life-writing.  The  detached  memoranda  of  the 
Evangelists  answer  to  no  such  idea.  We  have  no  regular 
diary  (though  who  can  blame  the  curiosity  that  sometimes 
covets  it?)  of  His  sayings  and  His  wanderings;  far  less 
have  we  the  methodical  elaborateness  of  a  finished  memoir. 
His  story  is  cast  less  in  the  mould  of  a  formal  biography 
than  as  the  successive,  but  separate,  scenes  of  a  majestic 
monodrama.     A  mystic  shroud  still  envelopes  the  daily 


SERM.  XI.]  a  Type  of  the  Q entile  Church.  183 

walk  of  the  Son  of  God.  The  Spirit  speaks  of  Him  with  a 
holy  and  reverent  reserve.  So  truly  was  this  reserve  de- 
creed in  the  councils  of  heaven,  that  (wonderful  as  it  surely 
is !)  there  is  scarcely  a  fragment,  beyond  the  Gospel  narra- 
tives, preserved  of  the  express  words  or  deeds  of  Jesus ;  a 
fact  unparalleled  in  all  its  circumstances.  And  when  Satan 
(according  to  the  usual  law  of  imitation  observable  in  his 
operations)  prompted  his  nnhappy  agents  among  the  early 
heretics,  to  overlay  the  true  with  false  narratives, — an  at- 
tempt renewed  not  long  since  by  an  English  infidel,  so  that, 
like  the  shields  in  the  Koman  temple,  the  divine  gift  might 
be  undisting^uishable  amons^  its  human  imitations, — the 
watchful  providence  of  God  gradually  discredited  the  whole 
of  these  forgeries,  and  left  the  four  authentic  records  as  the 
sole  written  inheritance  of  the  Church,  the  spiritual  aliment 
of  every  race  and  nation  of  man, — while  it  imprisoned  their 
rivals  among  the  dusty  tomes  of  the  learned,  to  magnify, 
by  the  contrast  of  their  extravagancies,  the  inimitable 
workmanship  of  heaven.  All  has  vanished  of  Him  who 
"spake  as  never  man  spake,"  but  that  which  God  expressly 
excepted ;  but  this  again  supplies  another  wonder,  from 
which  I  cannot  pass  without  a  moment's  notice.  Mahomet 
was  accustomed  to  appeal  to  the  sublimity  of  his  Koran 
(itself  a  pompous  plagiary  from  our  Scriptures,  as  indeed 
his  whole  religion  is  a  Christian  lieresij)^  in  jiroof  of  the 
divinity  of  his  mission;  but  lofty  imagery  is  not  very  dif- 
ficult to  borrow  or  invent.  Our  Gospels  (which  surely  are 
themselves  of  the  highest  order  of  the  truest  sublime)  con- 
tain a  characteristic  far  rarer  than  any  sublimity  of  imagi- 
native decoration.  The  hand  only  of  a  master  can  achieve 
the  greatest  "  effect"  in  the  fewest  strokes ;  and  is  it  not 
astonishing  that  a  few  scenes  and  a  few  discourses  should 
convey  an  impression  of  the  Actor  and  the  Speaker  more 
distinct  and  perfect,  perhaps,  than  has  ever  been  conveyed 
of  any  man  eminent  in  the  world's  history,  by  the  most 
voluminous  biography  ? — so  that  every  one  (as  far  as  natu- 


184  The  Canaanite  Mother  [SERM.  XI. 

ral  apprehensions  can  reacli)  understands  "  the  mind  that 
Avas  in  Christ  Jesus," — knows  how  that  blessed  Personage 
would  feel  and  act  in  any  ordinary  conjuncture  of  life, — 
would  be  prepared  to  meet  His  daily  habits  and  to  enter 
into  His  line  of  conversation, — more  securely  and  com- 
pletely (and  this  from  a  calm  perusal  of  the  Gospels  alone) 
than  he  could  engage  to  do  with  any  subject  of  the  most 
copious  historical  record, — nay  (such  is  the  irresistible  con- 
viction of  His  unrivalled  singleness  and  sincerity !)  than  he 
could,  perhaps,  attempt  with  his  most  intimate  and  trusted 
friend.  And  this  (you  will  remember)  such  a  character  as, 
in  all  its  blended  ingredients, — so  new,  yet  so  harmonious, 
— the  world  had  never  seen  before,  and  has  seen  in  but 
rare  and  feeble  imitations  since.  And  hence,  though  the 
records  are  so  few  and  brief,  they  are  (by  a  marvellous  con- 
ciliation of  difiiculties)  abundant  for  the  great  purpose  of 
example.  But  to  follow  this  topic  would  lead  me  too  far ; 
and  I  am  now  speaking  not  so  much  of  what  we  can  copy 
as  of  what  we  can  only  contemplate.  If,  then,  in  this  limited 
history  which  the  Gospel  supplies,  we  find  the  miracles  of 
Christ  related  in  very  different  forms, — sometimes  aggre- 
gated in  a  constellation  of  mercies  ("  they  that  had  any  sick 
with  divers  diseases  brought  them  unto  Him,  and  He  laid 
His  hands  on  every  one  of  them,  and  healed  them ;  and  devils 
also  came  out  of  many''^  (Luke  iv.  40,  41) :  or,  "  a  great  mul- 
titude of  people  came  to  hear  Him,  and  to  be  healed  of  their 
diseases,  and  they  were  healed.  And  the  whole  multitude 
sought  to  touch  Him,  for  there  went  virtue  out  of  Him, 
and  healed  them  air  (vi.  17-19,  &c.  &c.) ),  sometimes  set  forth 
with  a  minute  speciality  of  place,  and  time,  and  manner, — 
we  cannot  but  suspect  that  the  presiding  Spirit  that  go- 
verned the  composition  of  the  four  great  records  of  the  life 
of  Christ  must  have  had  His  reasons  for  the  difference. 
AVe  cannot  but  feel  ourselves  justified  in  seeking  for  those 
reasons  below  the  surface,  nor  are  we  to  be  deterred  by  the 
opposition  of  some  and  the  extravagancies  of  others,  from 


SERM.  XI.]  a  Type  of  the  Gentile  Church.  185 

expecting  that,  in  many  instances,  it  may  be  permitted  to 
patient  industry  to  seize  tliem ;  tliough  it  be  very  possible 
(indeed  I  believe  it  altogether  certain)  that  the  full  intelli- 
gence of  these  reasons  may  not  be  given  until  some  future 
crisis  of  events — perhaps  until  the  completion  of  the  whole 
mystery  of  God — shall  itself  explain  them.  Many  parts  of 
the  Holy  Volume  (as  the  temple  of  Ezekiel,  and  others  not 
professedly  prophetical)  may  then  be  found,  though  now  re- 
garded of  so  little  relative  importance,  to  be  charged  with 
the  weightiest  and  most  momentous  practical  truth.  Doubt- 
less we  are,  in  some  measure,  as  the  Jews  so  long  were,  the 
conservators  of  treasures  whose  real  force  and  scope  we 
have  never  entirely  mastered.  That  language  of  actions 
and  events  in  which  the  Spirit  of  God  loves  to  speak  seems 
to  be  inexhaustible  in  meaning.  The  same  event,  that  ful- 
iils  an  ancient  prophecy,  often  becomes  itself  a  type  that 
silently  prophesies  a  series  of  future  wonders.  And  thus, 
in  a  manner,  God  makes  the  history  of  the  whole  world 
His  Scripture;  and  monarchs  and  empires,  in  their  rise  and 
their  revolutions,  the  letters  of  His  mystic  page.  But,  of 
course,  such  considerations  of  the  profound  purport  of  reve- 
lation apply  mainly  to  the  written  word  of  God,  and  chiefly 
encourage  us  in  every  honest  effort  to  sound  its  depths. 
And  I  may  add,  that  these  considerations  alone  are  an 
abundant  answer  to  the  objector,  who  smiles  or  sneers  at 
the  anxiety  which  the  modern  societies  for  the  circulation 
of  the  Scriptures  manifest,  for  the  preservation  of  the  ivhole 
volume  in  its  unbroken  integrity,  so  that  all  must  be  re- 
ceived or  none ;  and  who  asks,  what  would  public  morals 
suffer  though  the  book  of  Leviticus,  and  the  Genealogies  of 
the  Chronicles,  and  the  Song  of  Solomon,  and  the  perplex- 
ing visions  of  Ezekiel  or  Zechariah,  were  lost  forever  to  the 
public  eye?  The  answer,  I  repeat,  is  simple  and  decisive. 
We  are  the  pledged  depositories  of  a  treasure,  the  trustees 
for  future  ages;  and  as  we  have  received,  so  must  we  trans- 
mit.    We  dare  not  measure  the  depth  of  God's  purposes 

16'^ 


186  The  Canaanite  Mother  [seem.  xi. 

bj  our  penetration  of  them.  The  Church  is  the  sworn 
executor  of  God's  solemn  bequest;  and  the  honest  executor 
dares  not  curtail  the  legacy  because  he  fears  that  a  part 
may  be  abused,  and  a  part  may  bear  no  interest.  If  the 
Scriptures  are  to  be  preserved  at  all,  and  not  left  to  the  pro- 
vidential recovery  of  some  future  Hilkiah,  it  can  only  be 
(under  God)  by  the  multiplication  of  copies,  and  the  stern 
principle  of  rescinding  nothing  which  heaven  has  thought 
fit  to  perpetuate.  Had  the  Jews  acted  on  the  short-sighted 
calculations  of  the  objector,  we  should  at  this  day  have 
been  without  many  of  the  most  decisive  prophetical  authen- 
tications of  Christ;  for  who  would  have  dreamed  that  Ze- 
chariah's  thirty  pieces  of  silver^  or  his  King  lowly,  and  riding 
on  an  ass,  were  ever  meant  to  find  their  minute  fulfilments? 
Or  who  would  have  thought  that  Jeremiah's  "Kachel  weep- 
ing for  her  children,"  or  Hosea's  "out  of  Egypt  I  have 
called  my  Son,"  were  (though  realized  in  a  lower  sense  at 
or  near  the  times  of  these  prophets)  in  truth  but  the  dim 
reflections  of  mightier  events  not  yet,  nor  for  ages,  to  rise 
upon  the  dark  horizon  of  time  ?  And  would  not  such  pas- 
sages have  been  (on  the  principle  I  am  opposing)  among 
the  first  condemned  to  inferiority,  removed  from  popular 
inspection,  and  thus  exposed  to  gradual  neglect  and  ulti- 
mate disappearance  ? 

From  these  suggestions  in  confirmation  of  the  truth, 
more  and  more  to  be  evinced  by  circumstances  and  events, 
— that  ^^all  Scripture  is  profitable  for  doctrine,  and  reproof, 
and  correction,  and  instruction,"  and,  more  especially,  of 
the  value  and  depth  of  every  line,  which  tells  us  of  the 
doings  of  our  Lord,  at  once  the  giver  and  falfiller  of  the 
whole,  "the  Author  and  the  Finisher  of  the  Faith," — we 
return  once  more  to  our  immediate  subject,  and  endeavor 
to  resume  the  consideration  of  the  important  instance  the 
text  brings  before  us, — itself  an  emblem  or  symbol  for  all 
ages  of  the  expansion  of  Jewish  privilege  into  Gentile 
adoption,  of  the  steps  by  which  the  Lord  is  pleased   to 


SERM.  XT.]  a  Tijioe  of  the  Gentile  Church.  187 

work  this  merciful  providence,  and  the  grounds  and  con- 
ditions which  He  requires  in  those  who  obtain  its  benefits. 
Let  us,  then,  omitting  all  comparisons  of  other  miracles,  or 
other  interviews,  with  this,  confine  ourselves  to  it  alone. 
We  shall  find  it  abundantly  adequate  to  represent  the 
whole  mystery  of  heathen  salvation ;  to  picture  the  Church 
(already  in  mysterious  prospect  co-extensive  with  every 
clime  and  family  of  man)  approaching  humbly  and  believ- 
ingly  the  Lord  of  all,  and  soliciting  from  Him  who  cannot 
refuse  the  prayer  of  faith,  the  permission,  on  behalf  of  en- 
slaved thousands,  to  become  His  emancipated  servants. 

I  call  your  attention,  in  the  first  place,  to  the  race  and 
country  of  the  believing  mother  in  the  narrative.  This  is 
expressed,  with  some  variety  of  phrase,  though  substantial 
sameness,  in  the  two  Gospels  of  Matthew  and  Mark,  in 
which  the  event  is  recorded  (with  great  propriety  if  Mat- 
thew's Gospel  was,  as  learned  men  conclude,  mainly  in- 
tended for  the  Jews^  and  Mark's  for  the  Gentiles^  both  of 
whom  were  equally  concerned  in  the  incident).  The  vari- 
ety, however,  is  most  instructive  in  relation  to  our  present 
purpose.  Christ  is  said  to  have  "  departed  to  the  coasts" 
or  "borders  of  Tyre  and  Sidon^^^  and  the  woman  to  have 
"  come  out  of  the  same  coasts."  St  Matthew  adds  that  she 
was  "a  woman  of  Canaan^  And  St  Mark  tells  us  that 
she  was  to  be  considered  "  a  Greeh^^  (that  is  in  religion  and 
habits),  "  a  Syro- Phoenician  by  nation."  Now,  I  request 
you  to  sum  up  these  brief  notes  of  country  and  origin  ; 
and  I  mistake,  or  you  will  find  them  to  embrace  every 
great  division  of  the  then  known  Gentile  world,  considered 
as  to  position  relatively  to  Israel ;  and,  still  more,  regarded 
(as  the  Old  Testament  Prophets  always  regard  them)  with 
a  view  to  their  open  hostility,  or  hollow  and  treacherous 
alliances, — on  which  heaven  always  frowned, — with  the 
original  people  of  God,  for  whom  these  idolatrous  enemies 
were  now  to  be  substituted.  Tyre  and  Sidon,  which  lay 
to  the  north  of  the  sacred  territory  (though  in  remote  anti- 


188  The  Canaanite  Mother  [serm.  XI. 

quitj  on  terms  of  alliance),  had  long  become  tlie  persecu- 
tors of  the  chosen  people  ;  as  you  discover  in  the  triumphant 
denunciations  of  Isaiah  and  Ezekiel,  mingled  now  and 
then  with  a  singular  strain  of  promise.  It  was  the  old 
prediction  of  the  Psalmist  that  the  "daughter  of  Jz/re" 
should  be  present  with  a  gift  at  the  nuptials  of  the  Mes- 
siah's spouse;  and  Isaiah,  though  he  bids  "the  ships  of 
Tarshish  howl"  for  wasted  Tyre  (ch.  xxiii.),  yet  promises 
that  a  time  would  come  when  "  her  merchandise  and  her 
hire  should  be  holiness  to  the  Lord."  But  the  woman  in 
the  story  is  farther  declared  to  be  of  Canaan ;  a  child  at 
once  of  that  accursed  race  in  whose  room  the  chosen  people 
(now  to  be  forsaken)  had  of  old  been  planted,  and  in 
Canaan  of  that  "  Ham,  the  father  of  Canaan,"  who  stands 
in  the  prophets  as  the  representative  of  Egypt,  and,  more 
or  less,  of  the  entire  south.  But  she  is  also  "  a  Syro-Phoe- 
niciau,"  not  merely  of  Phoenicia  in  its  Canaanitish,  but  of 
Phoenicia  in  its  Syrian  aspect ; — of  that  Syria,  then,  which 
not  only  had  so  often,  in  its  limited  acceptation,  been  the 
foe  of  Israel,  and  thence  bears  in  Isaiah  the  bitter  "  burden 
of  Damascus,"  but  which,  some  300  years  before  Christ's 
coming,  had  merged  in  itself,  as  one  empire,  the  old  glories 
of  Assijria, — the  Assyria  of  Shalmaneser,  Sennacherib, 
I^ebuchadnezzar, — and  which  thus  involves  in  its  associa- 
tions and  connexions  the  whole  body  of  the  eastern  enemies 
of  the  Jewish  people.  And  then,  adds  St  Mark,  she  was 
"a  Greek;"  she  inherited  (from  the  Greek  colonists  or 
traders  of  her  country,  doubtless)  and  she  symbolized, 
when  she  fell  at  the  feet  of  Christ,  the  image- worship  of 
the  icest,  and,  bound  as  that  was  with  all  its  habits  and 
manners,  might  sufficiently  represent  the  entire  mass  of  its 
degrading  sensualities  and  its  profitless  wisdom. 

Now  let  us  turn  from  the  suppliant  to  her  divine  Accept- 
or. Christ  was,  at  the  moment  she  met  Him,  purposely  a 
wanderer  from  the  land  of  Israel,  displeased,  we  may  con- 
clude, with  the  result  of  an  interview  He  had  just  held  with 


SERM.  XI.]  a  Type  of  the  Gentile  Church.  189 

the  chiefs  of  the  unhappy  people  His  favor  was  so  soon  to 
abandon.  And  what  was  the  nature,  what  the  subject  of 
that  interview?  What,  in  the  practical  Judaism  of  the 
age  of  Christ,  would  you  pronounce  to  have  been  most 
unworthy  of  a  perpetual  religion,  most  requiring  the  sub- 
stitution of  a  system  more  comprehensive,  most  amenable 
to  the  divine  judgments  ?  You  would  reply,  its  bigoted 
attachment  to  spiritless  ceremony,  its  multiplication  and 
enforcement  of  unauthorized  traditions,  its  complicated 
hypocrisy,  and  perhaps,  above  all,  if  you  were  to  select  an 
instance,  that  eminently  atrocious  device  of  hypocrisy,  by 
which  its  teachers  instructed  their  pupils  to  desert  a  parent 
under  pretext  of  honoring  God.  Such  precisely  are  the 
subjects  upon  which  Christ  has  just  met  and  refuted  these 
miserable  guides.  "  Scribes  and  Pharisees  which  were  of 
Jerusalem^^^  thus  representing,  though  in  Galilee,  the  very 
heart  of  the  corrupted  people.  Just  such  are  the  guilty 
perversions  upon  which  he  has  cited  a  prophecy  of  Isaiah 
(xxix.  17),  which  in  the  original  is  followed  by  an  express 
annunciation  of  some  most  mysterious  change,  a  "  marvel- 
lous work  and  wonder  among  the  people,"  at  which  "  the 
wisdom  of  the  wise  is  to  perish,  and  the  understanding  of 
the  prudent  to  be  hid,"  but  which  is  to  "  make  Lebanon" 
(the  very  country  of  our  Syrian  suppliant)  "  a  fruitful  field, 
while  the  fruitful  field  becomes  a  forest."  Just  such  are 
the  accursed  doctrines,  of  which  He  has  but  now  said  to 
His  disciples,  telling  Him  on  His  way  of  the  offended 
Pharisees,  that  "every  plant  that  His  Father  had  not 
planted  should  be  rooted  up,^^  and  that  the  blind  and  their 
followers  "should  both /a/?  into  the  pit.'"  Just  such  is  the 
loathsome,  the  corrupted,  the  decaying  Judaism  from  which 
the  Lord  of  Glory,  grieved  yet  resolute,  turns  to  meet  the 
woman  of  Canaan,  the  worshipping  heathen  ;  to  meet  the 
mystical  Church  of  the  Gentiles,  as  she  comes  up  from  the 
wilderness,  with  the  stamp  and  credentials  upon  her  of  all 
nations,  and  people,  and  tongues ;  as  she  comes  to  find  Him 


190  The  Canaanite  Mother  [serm.  XI. 

out  in  His  loneliness,  though  (how  appropriate  is  the  pa- 
rallel !)  "He  would  have  no  man  know  it."  Blessed  Ee- 
deemer! — the  thoughtful  guides  of  the  Church  of  old 
assigned  to  Thee  "  a  double  will."  I  had  rather  bow  to 
the  mystery  than  discuss  it;  but  here  at  least  we  may  dis- 
cern in  Thee  a  will  beyond  that  purpose  of  concealment ! 
Well  do  we  know  that  thy  kind  heart  was  already  yearn- 
ing for  the  humble  believer  before  she  came  to  Thee ;  that 
by  Thee  was  given  the  faith  that  brought  her ;  that  "  Thou 
couldst  not  be  hid,"  because  Thou  gavest  her  a  heart  to  see 
and  follow  Thee  through  thousands!  The  hour  icas  at 
length  come,  that  Jeremiah  saw  through  his  tears  of  old, 
when  "the  Gentiles  should  come  unto  Thee  from  the  ends 
of  the  earth,  and  should  say.  Surely  our  fathers  have  in- 
herited lies,  vanity,  and  things  wherein  there  is  no  profit  I" 
— Jer.  xvi.  19. 

Now  for  a  brief  summary  of  the  interview.  It  is  the 
second  Adam,  and  the  Church  the  second  Eve  !  Humble, 
repentant,  and  believing,  she  comes  from  the  long  slavery 
of  her  idols.  She  speaks  for  one  she  hath  left  at  home 
among  the  tombs,  harassed  and  torn  by  the  tyranny  of 
Satan.  Her  words  are  few ;  she  strives  not  to  be  "  heard 
for  her  much  speaking,"  but  quantity  is  compensated  by 
intensity  of  feeling,  and  truth  of  conviction.  Tears  and 
cries,  not  words  and  periods,  for  Him  who  hears  not  with 
human  ears ;  who  regards  not  the  tongue,  but  listens  to 
the  beating  of  the  heart.  Her  words  are  few,  but  what  a 
body  of  theology  is  here !  She  "  cried  unto  Him,  saying, 
Have  mercy  on  me,  O  Lord,  thou  Son  of  David ;  my 
daughter  is  grievously  vexed  with  a  devil."  "!Mercy,"  for 
every  thought  and  purpose  of  thine  is  compassion;  "  mercy," 
for  art  not  thou  the  long-expected  Messiah,  at  once  the 
Lord  of  all  and  the  Son  of  David,  true  God  and  true 
Israelite?  "Mercy  on  ?7ie,"  for  mercy  to  her  wretched  off- 
spring is  one  with  mercy  to  the  Church;  for  "the  daugh- 
ter of  my  people"  groans  and  weeps  beneath  the  crushing 


SERM.  XI.]  a  Type  of  the  Gentile  Church.  191 

bondage  of  tlie  Evil  one.  "  Slie  besought  Him,"  says 
St  Mark,  "  that  He  would  cast  forth  the  devil  out  of  her 
daughter."  She  acknowledged  that  the  true  solution  of 
the  physical  and  moral  curse  of  this  world  was  the  su- 
premacy of  him  whom  the  Son  of  David,  and  He  alone, 
was  empowered  to  overthrow.  And  how  much  more  can 
we  add  to  her  creed  ? 

But  the  reception  is  as  remarkable  as  the  appeal.  "He 
answered  her  not  a  word."  A  course  so  unlike  His  ordi- 
nary one,  so  unlike  that  prodigality  of  merc}^  when  crowds 
were  healed  as  they  came,  marks  the  absolute  peculiarity 
of  the  occasion,  and  points  to  a  wider  purpose,  and  a  more 
expansive  interpretation.  The  religion  of  Christ  had  at 
first  "  no  word"  for  the  Gentile ;  and  its  subsequent  ex- 
tension was  only  an  instance  of  that  triumphant  wisdom  of 
heaven  which  (strange  to  say)  wrought  the  greatest  good 
out  of  the  greatest  evil,  and  enlightened  the  world  by 
Jewish  blindness.  To  deepen  and  enforce  the  contrast, 
He  instantly  answers  the  interposing  disciples,  and  answers 
only  to  fortify  exclusion:  "  I  am  not  sent  but  unto  the  lost 
sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel."  Here,  then,  is  the  trial  of  a 
faith,  which  is  to  believe  His  character  in  spite  of  His 
words,  and  to  know  Him  merciful  even  when  His  mercy  is 
shrouded.  Did  she  falter  ?  We  know  not  what  moment- 
ary misgiving  may  have  crossed  her  spirit  as  she  heard  the 
solemn  words  :  "  I  cannot,  must  not  pity  thee,  though  I 
would  !"  But  courage,  poor  suppliant !  There  is  hope  in 
the  very  nature  of  the  limitation.  Eemember  the  agonies 
of  the  sufferer,  the  Satan-doomed,  whom  you  have  left 
behind  you  dependent  on  the  success  of  the  appeal  you 
make!  Eemember  that  on  the  strength  of  your  faith 
she  hangs  more  truly,  than  ever  gasping  disease  depended 
on  the  energies  of  medicine;  that  in  your  firmness  her 
health  returns,  with  your  despair  her  case  is  indeed  des- 
perate. But  the  woman  of  Canaan,  the  outcast  of  haughty 
Israel,  requires  no  reminding. — "She  came," — undaunted, 


192  The  Carmanite  Mother  [seem.  xr. 

unrepelled,  slie  came, — "and  worshipped  Him,  saying, 
Lord,  help  me  I" 

You  will  observe  that  the  pressure  of  the  trial,  in  this 
great  example,  lies  peculiarly  in  this,  that  it  augments  as  it 
advances,  and  only  ceases  when  it  has  reached  its  acme. 
When  the  thunder-cloud  has  swelled  and  darkened  to  the 
utmost^  it  bursts  in  a  shower  of  blessings.  The  objections 
of  the  Lord  are  twofold;  one  taken  from  the  limits  of  His 
commission,  and  one  from  the  degradation  of  the  object, 
manifestly  the  bitterer  and  sterner  rebuke.  And  I  need 
not  remind  you  how  perfectly  the  luider  parallel  corresponds ; 
how  answerably  the  body  of  the  Gentiles,  the  oppressed  of 
Satan,  were  excluded  from  divine  favor,  partly  by  the 
mysterious  limitations  of  Providence,  and  partly  by  the 
enormity  of  their  own  pollutions.  On  this  I  cannot  now 
insist  at  length ;  our  time  allows  little  more  than  to  sur- 
vey the  rejoinders  of  the  Canaanite,  and  in  her  of  the  weep- 
ing and  long-deserted  Church  of  the  heathen ;  to  note  their 
simple  brevity ;  and  yet  their  exquisite  pertinence.  It  is 
plain  that  there  were  two  ways  to  meet  the  tvv^o  objections 
respectively.  One  was  to  appeal  to  the  merciful  powei', 
and  the  other  to  the  merciful  equity  of  the  Messiah.  The 
Spirit  of  God  instructed  our  poor  Canaanite  in  both. 

"  I  am  not  sent  but  to  Israel,"  said  Jesus.  "  She  came," 
not  with  an  argument,  but  a  prayer  that  involved  an  argu- 
ment, "and  worshipped  Him,  saying.  Lord,  help  me  I"  She 
no  longer  calls  Him  Son  of  David,  for  her  object  was  to  rise 
from  the  Son  of  David  to  the  Son  of  God,  from  the  Messiah 
of  the  Jew  to  the  Messiah  of  the  world, — to  "  the  ZortZ"  in 
the  simple  majesty  of  the  name,  yea,  to  "  the  mighty  God, 
the  Father  of  the  everlasting  age,  the  Prince  of  peace." 
She,  therefore,  designates  Him  by  the  vaster  and  ampler 
title,  and  adds  to  her  designation  "  worship."  She  insinu- 
ated that  "  the  Lord"  had  power  above  His  commission;  that 
this  plenipotentiary  of  heaven  could  at  will  transcend  the 
terms  of  His  instructions ;  and  by  that  omnipotence  which 


SERM.  XI.]  a  Type  of  the  Gentile  Church.  193 

ruled  the  world  it  had  created,  she  invoked  Him,  "Lord 
help  me !"  But  even  this  is  ineffective.  Faith  must  see 
more  than  power ;  and  the  Canaanite  must  pay  a  price  for 
being  the  model  of  the  Church  to  come.  Like  Him  she 
implored,  she  must  be  "  made  perfect  through  sufferings." 
For, — alas  I — omnipotence  acts  by  mysterious  and  often  ex- 
clusive law ;  though  the  agent  be  almighty,  the  object  may 
be  unfit  for  its  operation  ;  the  same  power  that  bade  Carmel 
blossom  left  Sinai  a  desert.  "  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the 
children's  bread,  and  to  cast  it  to  dogs  f^  "Let  the  children 
(St  Mark  adds)  first  be  filled!"  But  now  for  a  bolder 
flight  of  the  eagle- wing,  and  a  keener  glance  of  the  eagle- 
eye  of  faith.  She  springs  from  the  supreme  control  to  the 
benevolent  equity  of  Providence.  She  rises  above  the 
clouds  of  the  divine  power,  often,  to  us  who  can  only  see 
them  from  below,  dark,  disturbed,  and  stormy,  into  the 
holy  serenity  beyond  them.  She  sees  the  calm  Sovereign 
of  the  universe,  partial,  yet  impartial  too,  preferring  some, 
yet  forgetting  none.  She  knows  that  "  His  care  is  over  all 
His  works,"  and, — deepest  wonder  of  her  heaven-sent  en- 
lightenment ! — she  can  see  that  He  loves  her,  and  yet  accord 
His  unquestionable  right  to  love,  if  He  please  it,  others 
more ;  allows  she  can  ask  but  little,  yet  believingly  dares  to 
pronounce  that  little  certain !  She  will  permit  (would  to 
God  we  could  always  follow  her  in  our  speculations !)  no 
m3^stery  of  dispensation  to  contradict  the  truth  of  the  divine 
character.  "  Truth,  Lord,"  is  her  retort,  for  the  calmness 
of  her  settled  convictions  left  her  power  to  2^oint  her  reply  : 
"Truth,  Lord!  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  the  crumbs  which  fall 
from  their  master's  table."  Everything  is  here.  All  Chris- 
tianity is  concentrated  in  one  happy  sentence.  She  believes 
in  her  own  lowliness;  she  believes  in  God's  absolute  supre- 
macy; she  believes  in  the  secret  propriety  of  the  apparent 
inequalities  of  His  providence ;  she  believes  that  those  in- 
equalities can  never  affect  the  true  universality  of  His  love. 
God  is  all,  yet  she  is  something  too,  for  she  is  God's  crea- 
17 


194  The  Ganaaniie  Mother  [serm.  XI. 

ture.     Men  from  deep  places  can  see  the  stars  at  noon-day ; 
and  from  the  utter  depths  of  her  self-abasement  she  catches 
the  Yv^hole  blessed  mystery  of  heaven :  like  St  Paul's  Chris- 
tian, "in  having  nothing,  she  possesses  all  things."     No 
humility  is  perfect  and  proportioned,  but  that  which  makes 
us  hate  ourselves  as  corrupt,  but  respect  ourselves  as  im- 
mortal ;  the  humility  that  kneels  in  the  dust,  but  gazes  on 
the  skies !     Oh  !  with  what  joy  did  the  blessed  Teacher  see 
himself  foiled  in  that  high  argument ! — how  gladly  did  He 
yield  the  victory  to  that  invincible  faith !— how  did  He  joy 
to  see  the  grace  thus  budding  Avhich  He  himself  had  planted. 
He  who  gave  Jacob  the  strength  to  wrestle  with  Him  of 
old,  gave  the  Gentile  mother  the  power  to  vanquish  Him 
now !     "  0  woman,  great  is  thy  faith :  be  it  unto  thee  even 
as  thou  wilt!... For  this  saying  go  thy  way;  the  devil  is 
gone  out  of  thy  daughter !"— Matt.  xv.  28;  Mark  vii.  29. 
Yes,  the  devil  has  departed  from  that  emancipated  frame. 
"Her  daughter  was   made  whole   from   that  very  hour." 
The  color  is  returned  to  those  pallid  cheeks,  the  blood  no 
longer  streams  from  those  lacerated  limbs.     The  sepulchre 
and  the  desert  are  no  more  the  haunts  of  the  rescued  maniac ; 
the  mother's  love  is  triumphant  through  faith.     Satan  is 
dethroned  from  brain  and  heart,  the  faculties  are  free  for 
God.     And  say,  shall  not  we  assume  a  louder  strain,  and 
swell  the  burden  of  the  song  till  heaven  shall  ring,  while 
we^ — the  saved  from  Satan,  the  mystic  antitype  of  that  lone 
victim, — echo,  across  the  chasm  of  ages,  the  praises  of  the 
merey,  that  crushed  for  ever  the  earthly  omnipotence  of 
Satan,  that   hurled   the  fiend,  "like  lightning,"  from  the 
heaven  of  his  power,  and  raised  on  the  ruins  of  sin  and 
sin's  slavish  law  the  everlasting  monarchy  of  grace  1"     "  O 
woman,  great  is  thy  faith  I"     0  Church  of  the  living  God, 
great  was  thy  endurance  in  the  days  of  old:  "We  have 
heard,  and  our  fathers   have  declared  unto  us  the  noble 
things  of  their  day,   and  of  the  old  time  before  them !" 
High  and  holy  is  the  inheritance,  thy  faith,  through  fire 


SERM.  xr.]  a  T>jj)e  of  the  Gentile  Church.  195 

and  blood,  liath  transmitted!  And  oli! — people  of  the 
living  God!— Gentiles  "grafted  into  the  olive  tree"  of 
Christ! — heathens  who  are  blest,  while  "the  children  of 
the  kingdom  are  cast  out,"  whom  grace,  itself  unbought, 
hath  bought  from  hell,  buried  in  baptism  and  therein  risen 
again!— shall  any  wile  of  the  seducer  delude  you  back  to 
the  ruin  from  which  you  have  been  saved?  Shall  this 
august  heritage  of  glory  have  been  offered  and  bestowed  in 
vain  ? — that  heritage  of  mercy,  no  smaller  though  thou- 
sands share  it !  "  The  devil  is  gone  out"  of  the  Gentile 
daughter,  but  shall  he  return  with  the  seven  darker  spirits, 
and  the  last  end  be  worse  than  the  first  ?  God  grant  you 
light  to  see,  and  strength  to  avoid  this  fearful  doom ;  and, 
knowing  that  graces  abused  are  far  worse  than  graces  never 
given,  may  He  by  faith  and  godly  fear  enable  you  to  reach 
that  holy  country,  where  the  Canaanite  mother  has  ere 
now,  it  may  be,  learned  to  glory  in  a  celestial  Canaan,  and 
the  demoniac  daughter,  whom  Jesus  freed  on  earth,  has 
found  a  voice  to  speak  her  gratitude  in  heaven ! 


SERMON   XII. 

THE  FAITH  OF   MAN  AND  THE  FAITHFULNESS  OF  GOD. 
Faithful  is  he  that  calleth  you. — 1  Thessalonians  v.  24. 

The  highest  object  of  man's  existence  is  undoubtedly  to 
hold  communion  with  his  God.  For  this  his  nature  was 
originally  framed,  and  in  this  alone  will  his  nature  ever 
find  contentment  or  repose.  God  is,  as  it  were,  the  coun- 
terpart to  his  being ;  the  divine  and  human  elements  are 
fitted  to  each  other;  and  humanity,  without  the  corre- 
sponding principle  of  Deity,  is  a  thing  imperfect,  insuffi- 
cient, incomplete.  This  it  is  that  makes  human  life  such 
an  enigma ;  this  it  is  that  has  perplexed  the  speculative, 
and  maddened  the  misanthropic,  and  clouded  the  calcula- 
tions of  even  the  amiable  among  mankind.  The  vital  tie 
that  connected  us  with  heaven  is  broken.  We  are  as  a 
limb  of  the  body  separated  (by  paralysis  or  any  other 
internal  cause)  from  the  benefits  of  the  general  circulation. 
God  is,  so  to  speak,  the  great  centre  of  life  and  motion, 
the  heart  of  the  universal  frame.  We  have  insulated  our- 
selves from  God ;  we  have  deadened  the  nerve  that  conducted 
his  influences,  and  what  remains  but  a  mass,  with  perhaps 
the  outward  appearance  of  life,  some  wild  convulsive 
struggles  that  look  like  life,  but  in  reality,  and  for  all 
purposes  of  regulated  strength,  or  useful  effort,  or  graceful 
motion,  a  cold,  unprofitable,  unanimated  mass !  And  this 
is  just  the  condition  of  man  so  long  as  he  continues  exiled 
from  the  communion  of  his  God ;  all  the  appearances  of 


SEEM.  XII.]    The  Faith  of  Man  and  Faithfulness  of  God.  197 

power  and  vitality,  none  of  the  truth;  faculties  prepared 
for  action,  but  no  energy  to  set  them  in  play ;  like  that 
Church  of  the  Apocalypse  to  which  the  Spirit  writes,  "  lie 
hath  a  name  that  he  liveth,  and  is  dead !" 

Were  man  wholly  and  hopelessly,  and  from  the  begin- 
ning, this  lost,  debased  thing,  such  expressions  as  I  have 
used  would  indeed  be  preposterous.  No  one,  I  suppose, 
ever  lamented  that  the  brute  creation  was  shut  out  from  the 
converse  of  angels.  Now  why  should  this  be  so  ?  What 
is  it  which  would  convict  of  gross  extravagance  the  man 
who  should  waste  his  days  in  lamenting,  that  the  beasts  of 
the  field  were  condemned  to  perpetual  exclusion  from  the 
glories  of  that  angelic  community  which  encompasses  the 
throne  of  God  ?  Plainly,  because  there  are  no  organs,  or 
faculties,  or  attributes  of  any  kind  in  the  brute  that  point 
to  a  brighter  destiny.  There  are  no  traces  of  a  fall  from 
original  brightness;  there  is  nothing  about  him  which 
makes  it  a  practical  contradiction  that  he  should  be  as  he 
is,  and  yet  be  what  he  is ;  nothing  which  evermore  cries 
out  that,  though  corruption  be  around  and  within  him, 
there  is  a  voice  also  which  condemns  the  corruption,  and 
desires  that  seek  for  better  satisfactions  than  this  miserable 
world  can  ever  bestow !  The  t^-ue,  clear,  unequivocal  per- 
ception of  his  own  destitution,  and  of  the  necessity  of  a 
reunion  with  the  source  of  all  excellence,  is  indeed  the 
exclusive  gift  of  the  enlightening  Spirit  of  God ;  but  even 
in  the  natural  man  there  are  faint,  occasional  gleams  of  a 
something  over  and  above  his  present  state,  even  though  he 
knows  not  what  it  is.  There  is,  at  all  events,  in  his  own 
perpetual  unhappiness^  a  tacit,  but  pressing  and  perpetual 
proof,  that,  whatever  be  the  nature  of  the  state  for  which 
he  was  originally  intended,  this  world,  most  assuredly,  from 
its  incapability  of  answering  the  call  of  his  whole  being 
for  happiness,  can  never  have  been  that  state.  It  is  most 
true  that  the  man  may  never  once  have  declared^  in  so  many 
words,  that  he  feels  himself  not  in  his  native  element ;  but 

17* 


198  The  Faith  of  Man  and  [serm.  XTI. 

Avliat  avails  that ;  Ilis  sorrows,  his  tears,  his  whole  nature, 
are  everlastingly  proclaiming  it.  This  is  a  confession,  not 
made  with  lips,  but  written  in  blood,  and  registered  in  all 
the  woes  of  all  mankind.  Every  domestic  bereavement, 
every  public  calamity,  every  groan  for  himself  or  for 
others,  that  ever  was  uttered  by  man,  all  alike  are  a  con- 
fession (more  mighty  than  language  can  devise)  that  man 
was  never  ultimately  designed  by  the  great  Creator  of  all 
for  a  scene  like  this ;  that,  by  some  cause  or  other,  he  has 
been  excluded  from  his  own  appropriate  sphere;  that, 
made  for  God,  he  has  deserted  his  Maker,  and  for  a  time, 
in  terrible  retribution,  has  been  deserted  by  Him ! 

I  say,  then,  that  everything  in  nature,  but,  above  all,  our 
own  melancholy  conviction,  attests  the  reality  and  the  con- 
sequences of  our  separation  from  God ;  and  the  reason  why 
I  have  dwelt  upon  the  point  is  this, — that  without  some 
notion  of  the  extent  of  the  loss,  you  can  never  arrive  at 
an  estimate  of-  the  value  or  the  nature  of  the  restoration. 
It  is  by  the  length  of  the  dark  shadow  you  are  to  compute 
the  height  of  the  elevation  beyond  it.  It  is  by  summing 
up  in  your  own  minds  the  long  catalogue  of  woe,  which, 
even  within  our  own  ordinary  experience,  sin  has  intro- 
duced, that  you  will  be  enabled  to  conceive  (as  far  as  man 
can  yet  conceive)  the  enormous  importance  of  that  mani- 
festation of  mercy,  whose  object  is,  by  the  descent  of  God 
Himself  among  mankind,  to  bind  once  more  the  broken 
links  of  communion  between  man  and  God!  Yes,  if  there 
be  among  us, — and  what  assembly  of  human  beings  is 
without  such  auditors  ? — if  there  be  here  one  soul  that  has 
ever  mourned  in  solitude  over  hopes  deceived  and  prospects 
dimmed,  and  a  life  at  times  without  motive  or  consolation, 
to  that  person  I  would  say,  "  You  are  yourself  among  the 
most  powerful  proofs  of  the  deep  truth  of  Christ's  eternal 
Gospel!"  It  was  not  to  a  world  perfect  in  all  its  elements, 
that  He  came  upon  His  mission  of  salvation.  It  is  the 
perpetual  mark   of  all  fiilse  systems,  that  they  begin   by 


SERM.  XII.]  the  Faillifulness  of  Ood.  199 

flattering  men  and  end  by  debasing  tlicm.  Christ  alone 
began  by  teaching  (what  you  now  feel)  the  bitter  lesson  of 
man's  degradation,  feebleness,  and  uncertainty,  in  order 
that,  upon  the  deep  foundation  of  human  depravity,  he 
might  build  the  immortal  structure  of  human  sanctifica- 
tion.  The  gospel  oi  faith  is  not  the  gospel  of  a  consum- 
mate paradise,  but  of  a  weak,  and  shivering,  and  wretched 
world.  All  your  sorrows  were  present  to  Christ  Jesus 
when  He  framed  His  own  glorious  remedy ;  and  it  is  to 
such  as  you  that  he  speaks,  when,  early  in  His  blessed 
work.  He  proclaims,  that  through  Him  the  mourners  shall 
be  comforted,  and  "  the  weary  and  heavy-laden"  receive 
"rest." 

Now  ivliat  is  the  nature  of  the  restoration  provided  for 
man,  whom  we  have  thus  seen  in  all  the  shame  and  misery 
of  a  banishment  from  God?  We  have  dwelt  upon  the 
wretched  characteristics  of  his  unredeemed  condition.  We 
have  dwelt  upon  the  evident  tokens  in  his  nature,  of  powers 
formed  for  a  mightier  grasp  and  a  vaster  theatre.  We 
have  seen  him,  along  with  the  rest  of  "  the  whole  creation," 
"  groaning  and  travailing ;"  unable  to  content  himself  with 
darkness,  at  the  very  time  that  he  is  "loving  darkness 
rather  than  light."  If  you  believe  that  I  have  over-stated 
one  item  in  the  list  of  human  debasement,  I  am  content 
with  the  remainder.  But  well  do  I  know  that  there  is 
scarce  one  among  us  (would  we  all  but  make  the  examina- 
tion) whose  recollection  cannot  summon  as  sad  an  assort- 
ment of  weaknesses  permitted  yet  condemned;  of  follies 
unavailingly  regretted ;  of  promises  to  God  (for  I  speak  to 
baptized  Christians),  repeated,  and  reiterated,  and  broken ; 
of  purposes  of  amendment  deliberately  rejected  or  care- 
lessly forgotten, — I  say  there  are  few  indeed  among  us, 
who  have  made  any  attempt  to  realize  the  spiritual  life, 
and  whose  memory  is  not  charged  with  as  sad  a  catalogue 
of  self-abasement  as  any  I  could  devise!  Kecall  it,  then! 
Kecall  the  cause^ — separation  from  God !     and  ask  your- 


200  The  Faith  of  Man  and  [seem.  xil. 

selves,  what  must  be  the  nature  of  the  remedy  provided  for 
man? 

The  answer  is  simple :  the  remedy  (whatever  its  specific 
nature  may  be)  must,  in  some  form,  be  a  restoration  of  the 
communion  of  man  icith  God.  And  this  is  the  most  general 
character  of  the  Christian  religion, — the  simplest  definition 
of  its  nature  and  object.  Man  is  separated  from  God  as  a 
criminal ;  the  communion  is  restored,  by  free  pardon  on 
God's  part,  and  the  acceptance  of  that  pardon  upon  man's. 
Man  is  separated  from  God,  as  unholy;  the  communion  is 
restored  by  accepting  the  sacrifice  of  Christ  instead  of  the 
absolute  sinlessness  of  Man,  and  by  that  perpetual  and 
progressive  process  of  sanctification,  which  makes  a  lost 
and  ruiued  soul  at  length  "meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the 
saints."  Christ,  the  great  conduit  of  mercy  between  God 
and  mau,  arrayed  in  all  the  attributes  of  the  two  natures 
lie  came  to  reconcile,  in  His  own  single  person  effects  the 
whole;  justifying,  as  we  are  in  Christ,  sanctifying,  as  Christ 
is  in  us.  And  thus  it  is  that  Christianity  restores  the  race 
of  man,  by  restoring  the  communion  with  God.  Thus  it 
is  that  all  those  perplexities  of  which  I  spoke  are  solved,— 
that  humanity  once  more  meets  its  counterpart  in  Deity, — 
and  the  harmony  of  the  universe  becomes  complete ! 

Kow,  of  this  union  with  God^  which  is  the  great  problem 
of  the  world,  and  which,  as  we  have  seen,  Christianity  alone 
seriously  ventures  to  attempt,  if  you  were  called  upon  to 
state  the  first  great  characteristic^ — reflect, — what  answer 
would  you  make  ?  Would  you  reply  that  "  peace"  attends 
it  ?  True, — and  yet  peace  only  "  attends"  it.  It  is  a  con- 
sequence rather  than  an  element.  Shall  we  say  "joy"? 
The  same  objection  will  lie ;  joy  is  less  a  part  of  the  union 
itself  than  a  bright  and  heavenly  light  which  perpetually 
fldls  upon  it.  "Gratitude"?  This  does  indeed  mingle 
deeply  in  the  intercourse  with  God;  yet  the  intercourse 
itself  must  be  first  effected.  Suppose  then  we  call  it 
"love"?     What  tongue  can  duly  celebrate  that  cousum- 


SERM.  XII.]  the  Faithfulness  of  Qod.  201 

mate  grace  ?  And  yet  love  is  rather  the  highest  point  of 
the  communion  with  God,  than  its  first  and  necessary  step. 
Where,  then,  shall  we  discover  that  first  step,  and  by  what 
name  shall  we  designate  it,  which  brings  the  renovated 
soul  into  the  spiritual  presence  of  God ;  that  state  which 
contains  within  itself  the  essence  of  the  connection,  and  of 
which  all  other  religious  afi'ections  are,  in  some  measure, 
the  consequences  only?  If  the  sacred  writers  have  ever 
spoken  of  such  a  state,  by  what  single  term  have  they  been 
accustomed  to  denote  it  ?  To  discover  this,  consider  what 
must  be  the  nature  of  such  a  state, — of  the  state  which  first 
actually  establishes  the  soul's  conscious  connection  with  its 
God  ?  It  must  concern  the  intellect,  and  it  must  concern 
the  heart,  for  the  soul  is  both.  In  the  former  view  it  must 
behold  and  recognize  God  in  all  the  fulness  of  His  attri- 
butes,— holiness,  justice,  and  mercy ;  in  the  latter  it  must 
love  the  holiness,  dread  the  justice,  desire  the  mercy. 
Eightly  to  BELIEVE  in  Christ  is  to  know  and  to  feel  all 
three.  Before  this  state  of  the  soul  arrives,  the  communion 
with  God  cannot  be  said  to  be  to  our  own  experience 
actually  established;  and  after  it,  the  communion  is  (for 
this  world)  complete.  This  state,  then,  contains  in  it  the 
vital  spirit  of  Christianity  as  a  practical  thing ;  it  is  on  our 
part  the  grand  passage  from  a  world  of  wickedness  into 
the  conscious  presence  of  Christ ;  it  is  the  internal  change 
on  which  eternity  is  suspended.  Whatever  be  the  details 
of  the  process,  the  process  itself  (if  really  the  genuine  work 
of  the  Holy  Spirit)  must,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  case, 
comprise  in  it  the  seeds  of  immortal  glory.  I  need  not 
repeat  to  you,  that  this  complex  act  of  knowledge  and 
affection  is,  in  the  Scriptures,  denominated  the  act  or  grace 
of  Faith. 

You  will  now  perceive  why  it  is  that  in  this  manner  I 
have  approached  the  great  truth  proposed  in  the  text. 
That  truth  is  the  ground  and  warrant  of  the  intimate  com- 
munion, which,  I  have  already  declared  to  you,  it  is  the 


202  The  Faith  of  Man  and  [SERM.  Xll. 

great  object  of  Christianity  to  establish.  Christianity  is  a 
"ministry  of  reconciliation,"  the  restoration  of  a  broken 
bond.  ISTow  in  every  perfect  union  there  must  be  mutual 
confidence,  and  a  strict  fulfilment  of  engagements  on  both 
sides.  If  man  be  trustful,  God  must  be  "faithful."  In 
this  great  contract  there  must  be  in  God  a  something  that 
will  answer  to  the  faith  that  is  in  his  humble  follower. 
And  in  affirmation  of  this, — to  show  that  there  is  indeed  a 
perfection  in  the  Deity,  correspondent  to  the  grace  He 
gives,  to  make  the  union  complete,  to  leave  nothing  imper- 
fect,— the  Apostle,  at  the  very  time  that  he  declares  that 
man  is  "justified  by  faith,"  also  reiterates  (as  if  to  show 
that  God  also,  in  another  sense,  shall  one  day  be  "justified" 
by  His  preservation  of  faith  to  man)  that  "  the  Lord  is 
faithful,"  that  "  God  is  faithful,"  or,  as  in  the  text,  that 
"  faithful  is  He  that  calleth  you."  Thus  faith  in  man  and 
faithfulness  in  God  are  the  two  members  of  one  spiritual 
harmony.  Neither  is  to  be  conceived  without  the  other. 
Man,  without  God,  would  be  fatherless;  and  God  has 
almost  permitted  us  to  say  that,  without  His  people  (the 
"  little  children"  whom  He  wills  not  "  to  perish").  He  would 
himself  be,  as  it  were,  childless  in  His  own  celestial  family ! 

Having,  then,  seen  how  the  faith  of  the  believer  and  the 
faithfulness  of  God  work  out  that  blessed  communion, 
which  Christ  came  upon  earth  to  establish,  let  us  for 
a  moment  dwell  upon  that  element  of  the  two,  which  in 
the  text  is  brought  more  directly  before  us, — even  the 
faithfulness  of  that  "  Father  of  lights,  with  whom  is  no 
variableness,  neither  shadow  of  turning." 

The  instance  of  God's  inflexible  fidelity,  which  the 
Apostle  notes  in  the  text,  is  gloriously  characteristic  of 
the  spiritual  system  to  which  we  belong.  What  I  mean 
may  be  illustrated  in  this  way.  Ko  words  can  go  beyond 
the  confidence  of  David  in  the  faithfulness  of  God.  "  Thy 
faithfulness  reacheth  to  the  clouds."  "  The  heavens  shall 
praise  thy  wonders,  0  Lord !  thy  faithfulness  also  in  the 


SERM.  XII.]  the  Faithfulness  of  God.  203 

congregation  of  the  saints."  "  Thy  faithfulness  shalt  thou 
establish  in  the  very  heavens."  "  His  truth  endurcth  to 
all  generations."  To  all  these  expressions  (and  hundreds 
o^  such  expressions),  no  doubt,  high  and  spiritual  meanings 
belong.  Yet,  even  so  understood,  they  refer,  more  usually, 
to  the  mighty  works  which  God  was  to  perform,  in  exalting 
His  divine  supremacy  over  the  kingdoms  of  the  earth. 
The  outward  and  visible  glories  of  God's  holy  monarchy 
appear  to  have  been  those  which  stood  most  prominently 
in  the  royal  Prophet's  vision.  Holiness  was  indeed  to  be 
the  foundation  of  all;  but  yet  a  holiness  triumphant  in 
visible  majesty  and  regal  pomp.  But  what  is  that  faithful- 
ness of  God  to  which  St  Paul  invites  attention  ?  The 
kingdom  of  God  was  to  him  evidently  an  inward  and 
spiritual  kingdom,  even  at  the  time  that  he  looked  forward 
to  "  the  presence  of  the  Lord  and  the  glory  of  His  power, 
when  He  shall  come  to  be  glorified  in  His  saints."  How 
profound  are  the  words  with  which  he  introduces  his 
declaration  of  the  truthfulness  of  God !  "The  very  God 
of  peace  sanctify  you  wholly ;  and  I  pray  God  your  whole 
spirit,  and  soul,  and  body,  be  preserved  blameless  unto  the 
coming  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Faithful  is  He  that 
calleth  you,  who  also  will  do  it!"  It  was  no  relief  from 
temporal  evils  that  the  Apostle  promised,  no  security  from 
adversity,  that  was  to  manifest  the  omnipotence  of  God 
exerted  on  behalf  of  his  people.  No :  the  mercy  of  God 
might  send  them  to  the  stake  or  the  lions ;  it  was  still  His 
mercy,  if  it  but  "kept  them  "unspotted  from  the  world." 
It  might  expose  them  to  insult,  calumny,  and  wrong;  they 
received  it  still  as  mercy,  if  it  "  established  them  in  every 
good  word  and  work."  Oh,  brethren !  how  many  of  yoit 
are  content  with  such  faithfulness  as  this  on  the  part  of 
your  heavenly  Father  ?  Is  this,  indeed,  the  tone  and  tenor 
of  your  prayers  ?  When,  in  the  solitude  of  your  closets, 
you  address  yourselves  to  the  great  work  of  supplication, 
is  your  heart, — (I  ask  not  what  the  lips  are  uttering), — is 


204  The  Faith  of  Man  and  [SEiiM.  xil. 

your  heart  busy  in  pleading  with  God  His  own  eternal 
faithfulness  in  behalf  of  your  sanctification  and  spiritual 
safety  ?  Is  it  for  a  more  resolute  faith,  and  a  higher  reach 
in  holiness,  that  you  remind  Him  of  His  pledge  to  hear 
3^ou  ?  Or  are  not  your  affections  too  often  still  crouching 
among  the  hopes  and  fears  of  this  world,  even  at  the  very 
moments  assigned  to  solitude  and  prayer  ?  Nay,  at  this 
hour,  when  within  the  sacred  precincts  of  His  own  temples, 
the  brotherhood  of  the  Christian  family  meet  to  hold  com- 
munion with  their  common  Father,  are  no  such  miserable 
visions  presented  to  Him  instead  of  prayer  ?  And  such 
supplicants  speak  of  the  "  faithfulness  of  God !"  Yes,  God 
is  faithful  even  to  such !  "  When  ye  spread  forth  your 
hands,  I  will  hide  mine  eyes  from  you ;  yea,  when  ye  make 
many  prayers,  I  will  not  hear !"  This  is  the  promise  to 
such  as  insult,  with  a  mockery  of  devotion,  the  long-suffer- 
ing of  God ;  and  to  such  promises  God  can  be  awfully 
"faithful!" 

The  faithfulness  of  God  is  represented  by  the  Apostle, 
in  the  context,  as  extending  to  the  whole  man,  to  "  body," 
to  "soul,"  and  to  "spirit,"  which  are  all  said  to  be  "pre- 
served blameless."  The  entire  of  our  feeble  humanity  is 
sheltered  under  this  canopy  of  divine  protection.  The 
"  body"  is  subdued  into  its  place  as  humble  minister  to  the 
soul;  the  "soul"  is  guarded  from  its  own  special  corrup- 
tions; and  the  "spirit," — the  element  that,  given  from 
heaven,  is  still  nearest  to  heaven, — is  preserved  undecayed 
amid  a  hostile  world.  Here  is  a  defence  for  this  triple 
nature  of  man.  And,  of  a  surety,  the  mystic  Trinity  that 
occupies  the  throne  of  heaven  will  not  forget  this  humble 
image  of  their  ineffable  mystery  (for  so  the  divines  of  old 
time  were  wont  to  regard  it),  which  the  Apostle  has  thus 
assigned  to  our  inferior  being !  Surely  the  "  soul"  will  be 
preserved  by  that  creative  Deity,  who  first  infused  it  into 
the  frame  ;  the  "  body,"  by  that  eternal  Son  who  was  pleased 
to  assume  it;   and  the  "spirit,"  by  that  over-blessed  Spirit 


SERM.  XII.]  the  Faithfulness  of  God.  205 

who  Himself  bestows  it,  and  well  may  guard  His  own  ines- 
timable gift ! 

It  is  also  said  of  tliis  faithfulness,  that  it  is  the  faithful- 
ness of  Him  "  that  calleth  you."  This  is  not  the  least  won- 
drous circumstance  in  the  unalterable  faithfulness  of  God, 
that  it  is  a  fidelity  to  Ilis  own  gracious  engagement.  He 
calls,  and  He  is  faithful  to  His  own  merciful  calling ;  He 
summons  the  heart  to  Himself,  and  He  adheres  to  His  own 
voluntary  summons ;  He,  without  destroying  human  free- 
dom or  human  responsibility,  of  His  free  grace,  commences, 
continues,  and  ends  the  whole  Christian  work.  Yet,  ao 
"faithful"  is  this  His  profound  compassion,  that  He  repre- 
sents Himself  as  bound  and  tied  to  the  impulses  of  His 
own  unconstrained  mercy.  There  is  no  bond  but  His  own 
love,  yet  that  bond  is  stronger  than  iron ;  and  He,  Avhom 
the  universe  cannot  compel,  commands  Himself! 

With  such  a  God,  such  promises,  such  faithfulness,  such 
calls,  must  the  question  be  evermore  asked  from  Christian 
pulpits.  Why  is  there  a  delay  in  seeking  to  appropriate  "  so 
great  salvation"  ?  If  we  believe  that  these  things  are  true, 
that  the  baptismal  vow  is  no  mockery,  and  the  Scriptures 
no  delusion,  where  is  the  earnest,  active  faith,  and  where 
the  life,  that  answer  to  it  ?  Why  are  our  prayers  so  often 
a  superstitious  form,  our  communion  with  God  a  name, 
our  Christian  profession  forgotten  or  disgraced  ?  Shall  it, 
indeed,  be,  that  God  has  bowed  the  heavens  to  make  offers 
of  mercy,  that  every  soul  is  invited  to  partake  of  His  inex- 
haustible favor,  that  the  message  of  His  "  faithfulness"  is 
perpetually  proclaimed  and  universally  known;  and  yet, 
that  year  after  year  passes  away,  and,  except  for  a  few 
happy  and  devoted  children  of  light,  scattered  among  the 
tribes  of  mankind,  the  world  is,  in  efi'ect,  still  in  darkness, 
and  the  message  of  an  infinite  love  known  indeed,  but  only 
known  that  the  knowledge  may  bring  with  it  the  additional 
guilt  of  deliberate  rejection  ! 

I  began  with  appealing  to  our  common  experience ;  let 
V6 


206  The  Faith  of  Man  and  [s_erm.  xii. 

me  return  to  it  before  I  close.  I  would  ask  you  to  what 
the  whole  efforts  of  human  life  are  directed  ?  What  is  that 
which  all  pursue, — the  same,  though  sought  in  a  thousand 
jDaths  ?  Is  it  not  a  something  fixed  and  stable,  something 
on  which  hope  can  rest,  and  towards  which  the  eye  of  the 
soul  can  turn,  as  to  an  object  of  settled  security?  It  is 
not  for  me  to  conjecture  the  special  desire,  pursuit,  solici- 
tude, of  each  I  address.  The  countenances  of  men  are  not 
more  diversified  than  their  hearts ;  in  both  instances  there 
is,  out  of  a  few  elements,  a  variety  almost  infinite.  But  this 
at  least  can,  assuredly,  be  said  of  all, — that  hope  is  perpetu- 
ally pointing  to  some  future  object,  real  or  shadowy,  and  that 
no  agony  could  surpass  his,  whose  life  was  wholly  without 
motive,  or  expectation,  or  aim.  Now,  is  there  one  among 
us  who  can  guarantee  his  lot  from  bitter  disappointment  ? 
Is  there  one  here  who  does  not  know  that,  whatever  be  his 
special  pursuit,  let  it  be  once  attained,  and  half  its  value 
vanishes?  Is  there  one  among  us  who  does  not  know,  that 
the  attainment  itself  is  miserably  precarious,  and  that,  in  most 
of  the  prizes  of  this  world,  the  momentary  pleasure  of  the 
winner  is  counterbalanced  by  the  prolonged  disappointrnxcnt 
of  hundreds?  And  can  you  feel  contentment  while  in- 
volved in  so  wretched  a  scene  as  this  ?  I  ask,  are  we  to 
have  no  ambition  to  escape  this  wearisome  round  of  labors 
that  bring  no  profit,  of  pleasures  that  have  no  continuance, 
of  enmities  without  cause,  and  friendships  without  perma- 
nence? Desiring  something  fixed  above  the  reach  of 
change,  can  we  really  expect  to  find  it  in  a  world  where 
the  principle  of  change  is  the  only  thing  unchangeable,  and 
over  which  the  gloomy  shadow  of  death  evermore  impends, 
disturbing  every  calculation,  and  clouding  every  prospect 
of  the  future?  These  are  simple  questions,  they  are  ad- 
dressed to  your  daily  experience ;  the  youngest  person  here 
is  old  enough  to  answer  them,  the  oldest  can  give  them  hut 
one  answer! 

Now  observe,  the  prominent  character  of  God,  put  for- 


SERM.  XIL]  the  Faithfulness  of  God.  207 

ward  in  tlic  text  before  us,  is  unshakeyi  slalilUi/.  "  Faithful 
is  IIq  that  callcth  you."  In  opi)osition  to  all  the  uncertain- 
tics  of  tliis  world,  lie  purposely  sets  Himself  forth  as  the 
single  object  beyond  and  above  change.  "  I  ara  the  Lord  ; 
I  change  not." — Mai.  iii.  G.  Having  given  to  man  a  desire 
for  some  object,  in  which  all  his  powers  might  repose,  He 
has  made  Himself  alone  that  object.  God  is  the  true  object, 
but  we  seek  our  God  everywhere  but  where  He  is  to  be 
found.  We  seek  the  God,  who  is  to  satisfy  our  hearts,  in 
riches,  in  pleasure,  in  power;  we  find  Him  only  "in  the 
face  of  Jesus  Christ."  There  He  discloses  His  own  un- 
changeable glory,  as  the  one  adorable  object  in  which  man 
is  ultimately  made  to  rest.  There  is  the  sufficiency  for 
every  affection,  the  satisfier  of  every  want,  and  in  this  sense, 
as  in  every  other,  "  the  desire  of  all  nations."  Brethren, 
if  you  have  not  made  trial  of  this  great  source  of  relief,  I 
put  it  to  you,  have  you  treated  your  own  case  fairly?  If, 
in  the  midst  of  your  perplexities  and  disappointments,  you 
hear  constant  mention  of  an  infallible  remedy,  are  you 
doing  yourself  justice  when  you  neglect  to  adopt  it  ?  How, 
oh !  how  is  it,  that  the  prudence,  which  would  so  certainly 
direct  us  in  the  management  of  bodily  health,  utterly  fails, 
when  the  spiritual  life  or  death  of  the  eternal  soul  is  the 
tremendous  question  at  issue  ? 

But  remember,  however  you  may  waver,  or  hesitate,  or 
procrastinate,  "  God  is  faithful,"  faithful  to  His  warnings  as 
He  is  to  His  promises!  A  few  years  more  (to  many  here 
far  fewer  years  than  they  have  already  passed),  and  the  crisis 
shall  at  last  arrive,  which  shall  determine,  by  terrible  proofs, 
the  awful  faithfulness  of  God.  A  day  shall  come  when  every 
wavering  half  believer  shall  learn,  how  truly  it  was  "  the 
god  of  this  world"  that  "blinded"  him  in  that  half  belief! 
At  that  hour,  that  inflexible  faithfulness,  which  forms  the 
rock  of  his  salvation  to  the  redeemed  one's  heart,  shall 
assume,  to  the  God-despiser,  the  terrible  form  of  an  inflexi- 
ble curse.     The  permanence  of  God's  character  is  the  very 


208  The  Faith  of  Man  and  [seem.  XII. 

warrant  of  his  doom,  and  the  seal  of  its  eternity.  It  is  a 
profound  and  impressive  remark  of  Bishop  Butler  that  the 
most  formidable  of  all  God's  attributes  to  the  wicked  is 
His  goodness ;  "malice,"  observes  the  sage,  "  may  be  wearied 
or  satiated;  caprice  may  change;  but  goodness  is  a  steady, 
inflexible  principle  of  action."  The  very  same  attributes 
which  (like  the  pillar  in  the  wilderness)  present  to  the 
saved,  a  side  of  light  and  protection,  shall  present  (them- 
selves unchanged)  to  the  lost,  a  gloomy  apparition  of  clouds 
and  darkness.  The  justice  that  acquits  the  believer,  in  the 
blood  of  the  sacrifice,  shall  condemn  the  despiser  of  that 
blood.  The  goodness  that  shelters  the  beloved  children  in 
the  bowers  of  Paradise,  shall  (to  us  mysteriously  but  truly) 
abandon  to  his  punishment  the  guilty,  for  the  benefit  of 
the  universe.  The  wisdom  that  is  shown  in  contriving  sal- 
vation shall  be  "justified  of  her  children"  in  condemnation 
also.  The  power  that  framed  a  heaven  for  the  blessed  shall 
be  revealed  more  awfully  still  in  the  structure  of  the  abodes 
of  misery !  Oh,  brethren !  what  is  to  be  gained  by  a  contest 
with  such  a  being  as  this?  Can  you  expect  to  sway  His 
eternal  purpose,  or  bend  to  your  caprices  His  eternal  laws  ? 
Think  you  that  he  will  waver  because  we  hesitate ;  that  He 
will  forget  His  faithfulness  because  we  forget  our  faith! 
Never,  never !  You  must  alter,  for  Ood  will  not.  We  be- 
seech you,  then,  "  be  ye  reconciled !"  The  ransom  has  long 
been  paid,  heaven  is  open,  and  Christ  sitteth  at  the  right 
hand  of  God.  Everything  is  ready  but  the  heart  of  man  ! 
Do  you  in  anywise  feel,  under  the  impulses  of  God's  grace, 
that  it  were  high  time  this  matter  were  settled  between  you 
and  your  Judge  ?  Pause  not  one  hour  in  setting  cordially 
about  it!  Those  who  love  God  will  be  your  examples  and 
instructors.  Be  with  them  in  prayer  and  watching.  Seek 
for  the  light  where  God  has  bade  you  expect  it ;  seek  it 
with  an  earnest,  humble,  persevering  heart;  and  God  Him- 
self will  raise  up  in  your  minds  the  lamp  of  His  own  im- 
mortal truth.     With  His  own  Spirit  He  will  teach  you, 


SERM.  XII.]  the  Faithfidness  of  God.  209 

and  with  His  own  love  surround  you,  and  with  Ilis  own 
power  protect  you,  and  with  His  own  joy  refresh  you.  The 
whole  host  of  heaven  will  be  your  spectators  and  applauders. 
You  may  have  to  bear  the  coldness  of  earthly  friends  (for 
such  things  must  sometimes  be),  but  you  will  do  it  only  to 
enter  into  a  holier  intimacy  with  "  the  generally  assembly 
and  church  of  the  first-born  which  are  written  in  heaven." 
You  may  perhaps  have  to  resign  some  of  the  distinctions  of 
earth,  but  the  everlasting  home  prepared  for  you  in  heaven 
will  more  than  compensate  the  paltry  loss.  You  will  give 
np  "  this  world,"  but  yon  will  receive  in  return  the  God  of 
the  universe  !  "  Faithful  is  He  that  calleth  you,  who  also 
will  do  it." 


18* 


SERMON   XIII. 

THE  WEDDING  GAEMENT. 
(Preached  on  the  Second  Sunday  after  Trinity.) 

And  when  the  king  came  in  to  see  the  guests,  he  saw  there  a  man  which  had 
not  on  a  wedding  garment : 

And  he  saith  unto  him,  Friend,  how  camest  thou  in  hither,  not  having  a  wed- 
ding garment?     And  he  was  speechless. 

Then  said  the  king  to  the  servants.  Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  take  him 
away,  and  cast  him  into  outer  darkness ;  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnash- 
ing of  teeth. 

For  many  are  called,  but  few  are  chosen. — Matt.  xxii.  11-14. 

These  verses,  tliough  taken  from  a  different  Evangelist, 
form  the  second  part, — the  closing  scene  and  consumma- 
tion of  the  impressive  parable  of  the  festival  and  guests, 
which  you  heard  read  as  the  Gospel  of  this  day.  They 
have  always  seemed  to  me  to  derive  a  peculiar  awfulness 
from  the  connexion  in  which  they  occur.  I  do  not  merely 
mean  that  that  connexion  puts  the  tremendous  m^or^  of 
these  verses  beyond  doubt,  that  is  too  obvious  to  require 
much  confirmation ;  but  that  the  connexion  with  the  earlier 
part  of  the  parable  gives  the  prediction  now  before  us, — 
the  prediction  of  eternal  judgment, — all  the  terrible  sim- 
plicity of  a  plain  matter  of  historical  fact.  For  this  parable, 
— the  series  of  events  symbolized  in  the  parable, — stretches 
across  all  time,  from  the  first  call  of  the  Jews  to  the  final 
judgment  of  mankind.  Part  is  past,  part  is  to  come;  we 
are  in  the  midst.  The  part  that  is  past, — the  repeated  in- 
vitations, the  perverse  refusals,  the  fearful  punishment  of 


SERM.  XIII.]  The  Wedding  Garment,  211 

the  Jewish  people,  is  certain,  for  it  is  fulfilled ;  certain,  not 
in  the  expectation  of  faith,  but  in  the  ordinary  belief  of 
historical  record;  certain,  exactly. as  we  are  certain  of  any 
unquestionable  event  of  times  gone  by,  of  the  leading  cir- 
cumstances of  any  national  history  whatever, — of  the  fall 
of  the  Koman  Empire,  or  the  reign  of  Charlemagne,  or  the 
Norman  Conquest,  or  the  Eeformation  of  the  sixteenth 
century.  Nothing  is  of  such  felt  reality  as  what  we  know 
to  be  past.  It  has  made  sure  of  existence.  No  power  can 
ever  make  that  to  be  in  itself  doubtful,  or  barely  possible, 
which  has  already  occurred.  Not  Omnipotence  itself  could 
now  make  that  not  have  been  which  has  been.  But  part 
of  the  parable, — that  which  we  are  about  to  be  engaged 
on, — is  yet  to  come  ;  and  what  I  desire  to  impress  is  this, 
that  ihQfelt  reality  which  belongs  to  the  one  communicates 
itself,  with  a  most  awful  power,  to  the  other ;  that  it  makes 
the  future  event  as  much  a  matter  of  downright  historical 
certainty  as  the  past  event.  They  are  both  equally  included 
in  the  one  simple  sketch,  and  when  that  sketch  was  drawn, 
both  were  alike  future.  The  great  event  of  the  divine 
vengeance  on  the  Jews,  in  the  seventh  verse,  was  just  as 
much  a  thing  to  come^  as  the  universal  judgment  in  the 
verses  before  us,  at  the  time  the  Lord  spoke  the  parable 
that  proclaims  both.  Both  were  then  to  come ;  both  were 
predicted  in  the  self-same  prophecy ;  one  has  notoriously 
taken  place ;  who  can  doubt  that  the  other  is  certain  ?  He 
who  was  so  fearfully  right  when  He  predicted  the  one,  was 
surely  not  mistaken  in  predicting  the  other.  The  one  was 
the  judgment  of  the  Church  Jewish ;  the  other  the  strictly 
analogous  judgment  of  the  Church  universal.  Events  have 
made  the  one  a  fact,  and  we  look  back  upon  it  as  such ; 
events  as  surely  will  make  the  other  a  fact  too ;  and  the 
time  will  as  surely  come,  when,  from  a  point  in  the  eternal 
ages  yet  to  be,  men  will  look  back  upon  what  we  now  call 
the  Last  Day,  and  see  in  it,  too,  the  first  day  of  a  further 


212  The  Wedding  Garment.  [SERM.  XIII. 

and    mightier  dispensation,   the  dawn    of  a   new  celestial 
development  of  the  one  everlasting  kingdom  of  God. 

This  awful  certainty  of  the  judgment  prophecy,  arising 
out  of  its  being  but  one  of  a  chain  of  predicted  events,  of 
which  some  are  now  undoubtedly  certain,  because  already 
past,  seems  to  me  so  very  important,  as  a  matter  of  prac- 
tical impression,  that  I  may  be  pardoned  attempting  a 
further  illustration  of  it.  Take  for  this  purpose  some  suc- 
cession of  events  familiar  to  us  all,  the  more  familiar  the 
better.  Let  ns  suppose  that,  at  the  time  when  Britain  was 
peopled  by  half-savage  tribes,  before  the  period  of  the 
Eoman  sway,  some  gifted  seer  among  the  Druid's  had  en- 
graven upon  a  rock  a  minute  prediction  of  a  portion  of 
the  future  history  of  the  island.  Suppose  he  had  declared, 
that  it  should  ere  long  be  conquered  by  a  warrior  people 
from  the  south ;  that  he  should  nam_e  the  Caesar  himself, 
describe  his  eagle  standard,  and  all  the  circumstances  of 
the  conquest.  Suppose  he  should  portray  the  Saxon  inva- 
sion centuries  after, — the  sevenfold  division  of  the  mon- 
archy, the  Danish  inroad,  the  arrival  and  victory  of  the 
Normans.  Our  imagined  prophet  pauses  here,  or  at  what- 
ever other  precise  period  you  please  to  suppose ;  and  his 
next  prediction,  overleaping  a  vast  undescribed  interval, 
suddenly  represents  the  England  of  the  present  day.  Now 
conceive  the  forefathers  of  existing  England  to  have  studied 
this  wondrous  record,  and  to  find  to  their  amazement  that 
every  one  of  its  predictions  was  accurately  verified ;  that  as 
their  generations  succeeded,  they  but  walked  in  the  traces 
assigned  for  them  by  the  prophetic  inscription,  and  all  it 
spoke  progressively  became  fact.  Can  we  suppose  that, 
however  far  away  in  futurity  was  the  one  remaining  event, 
and  however  impossible  to  tliem^  at  their  early  stage,  to 
conceive  the  means  by  which  all  the  present  wonders  of 
this  mighty  empire  could  ever  be  realized,  they  would  per- 
mit themselves  to  doubt  its  absolute  certainty,  after  such 
overwhelming  proofs  of  the  supernatural  powers  of  the  seer 


SEEM.  XIIT.]  The  Weddmg  Qarment.  213 

who  guaranteed  it  ?  Would  they  not  shape  their  course 
as  confidently  in  view  of  the  unquestionable  future,  as  in 
reference  to  the  unquestionable  past?  In  short,  would  not 
that  future  be  already  considered,  in  a  manner,  historical, 
— already  a  fixed,  integral  portion  of  the  story  of  the  nation? 
It  is  just  thus  we  call  on  you  to  regard  the  great  prophet's 
announcement  of  the  judgment  to  come.  That  too  is  pre- 
dicted, but  as  one  event  among  many, — among  many  that 
are  now  undeniably  certain,  for  they  are  now  actually  past. 
An  event,  future,  when  the  Lord  spoke,  is  now  an  old  his- 
torical epoch ;  and  that  very  event  is  here  bound  up  with 
the  revelation  of  the  judgment.  I  ask  you,  does  not  this 
connexion  give  a  terrible  reality  to  our  expectation  of  that 
judgment?  That  the  sun  shall  rise  to-morrow  is  not  as 
certain  as  the  judgment  to  come;  for  that  sunrise,  sure  as 
it  may  be,  can  hardly  be  called  as  sure  as  what  we  know 
to  be  past ;  and  the  past  is  not  more  certain  than  the  judg- 
ment, since  the  same  unerring  voice,  long  before  either,  has 
declared  them  both.  Awful  surely  is  it,  thus  to  feel  our- 
selves surrounded  on  all  sides  with  these  authentic  testimo- 
nies of  the  great  consummation  to  come ;  these  plain,  unde- 
niable proofs  that  we  are  moving  onward,  and  events  on 
all  sides  converging  to  a  point  already  fixed  in  the  counsels 
of  the  Most  High.  Doubt  that  the  knowledge  was  super- 
natural, and  the  utterance,  too,  when  in  a  time  of  profound 
peace,  and  sitting  with  His  few  poor  followers.  He  calmly 
declared  that  superb  Jerusalem  should,  within  that  genera- 
tion, be  a  ruin,  and  these  poor  followers  go  forth  to  revolu- 
tionize the  earth ; — then  may  you  doubt  that  same  voice 
when  it  spake,  in  that  self-same  hour,  of  the  judgment,  not 
of  Jerusalem,  but  of  the  world,  and  the  establishment  of  a 
Church  no  longer  militant,  but  triumphant  and  in  glory ! 

It  is  this  great  coming  event,  then,  of  which, — itself 
unseen, — the  awful  shadow  has,  in  the  fate  of  Jerusalem, 
already  fallen  across  the  history  of  the  world,  that  the 
Lord  here  describes.     This  marriage  feast,  of  which  the 


21i  The  Wedding  Garment.  [SERM.  XIII. 

parable  speaks,  is  to  take  place  in  the  courts  of  heaven ;  it 
is  the  future  everlasting  espousal  of  Christ  to  His  Church, 
at  last  by  Himself  to  Himself  presented,  "  not  having  spot 
or  wrinkle,"  "holj  and  without  blemish ;"  the  same  majestic 
ceremonial  which  is  elsewhere,  by  the  very  same  prophetic 
figure  entitled  "  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb,"  when 
''  His  bride  shall  have  made  herself  ready ;"  that  eternal 
union  of  Christ  and  the  blessed,  of  which  St  Paul  instructs 
us  that  all  earthly  marriages  are  types, — of  which  above 
all,  that  first  marriage  in  Eden  was  a  type ;  for  from  the 
body  of  this  second  Adam  also  is  His  Eve, — "the  mother 
of  all"  that  be  spiritually  "  living," — formed.  The  scene, 
then,  is  in  heaven ;  but  it  is  preceded  by  a  long  and  moment- 
ous process  upon  earth ;  it  is  a  festival  with  guests ;  these 
guests  must  be  invited  ere  they  can  present  themselves  to 
be  received.  And  now  is  the  time,  and  this  world  the  scene, 
of  the  invitation.  Of  this  invitation,  therefore,  we  must 
first  speak,  and  then  of  the  qualification, — the  appropriate 
"  wedding  garment," — of  the  guests ;  and  lastly,  of  the 
awful  consummation  in  the  text, — the  lack  of  the  qualifica- 
tion of  this  spiritual  apparel  of  the  soul,  and  its  conse- 
quence. 

I.  To  us,  then,  how  and  when  is  this  invitation  actually 
addressed  ? 

1.  It  is  delivered  to  us,  first  of  all,  in  our  Baptism^ 
when  taken  out  of  the  mass  of  Adam,  we  are  translated 
into  the  kingdom  of  Christ;  when  "buried  by  Baptism 
into  His  death,"  "  buried  with  Him  in  Baptism,"  we  are 
thence  "  risen  with  Him  through  faith  of  the  operation  of 
God  who  raised  Him ;"  when  solemnly,  by  that  most  holy 
rite,  introduced  into  the  spiritual  sphere,  even  the  outer 
chamber  of  "  the  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in 
the  heavens,"  we  are  thenceforth  (oh !  most  awful  privilege, 
profession,  and  responsibility,  our  inefi'able  blessing  or  our 
tenfold  condemnation !)  enrolled  as  the  children  of  God, 
members  of  the  crucified  and  ascended  Christ,  expectant 


SERM.  XIII.]  The  Wedding  Garment.  215 

inheritors  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  And  thus,  too,  in 
reference  to  the  subsequent  mystery  of  the  parable,  in 
Baptism  is  the  holy  garment  said  to  be  bestowed;  for  "as 
many  as  have  been  baptized  into  Christ  have  put  on  Christ," 

2.  But  in  the  delivery  of  that  "unspeakable  gift,"  we 
have  most  of  us  been  unconscious  recipients,  blessed,  and 
unknowing  of  our  blessings.  Therefore  it  is  wisely  pro- 
vided that,  with  our  own  free  and  deliberate  assent,  we 
should  adopt  and  publicly  testify  to  the  grace  of  God. 
And  thus  through  the  ministration  of  Christ's  chief 
ministers  among  us,  is  the  delivery  and  the  acceptance  of 
the  invitation  reiterated  and  established  in  our  Confirmation. 
And  there^  as  on  the  one  hand  we  solemnly  proclaim  that 
the  vows  of  our  Baptism  are  indeed  upon  us, — that  by  the 
covenant  of  our  Baptism  we  refuse  not  to  stand  or  fall ;  so, 
on  the  other,  may  we  trust  that,  in  answer  to  the  prayer, 
the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  to  illumine  and  to  fortify  are  not 
withheld;  and  (once  more  in  reference  to  the  garment  of 
the  parable)  that,  as  in  our  Baptism  we  have  "  put  on 
Christ,"  so  now  we  are  enabled,  as  well  as  exhorted,  to 
"put  on  the  ivhoJe  armor  of  God,"  therewith  to  "stand 
against  the  wiles  of  the  devil,"  to  "Avithstand  in  the  evil 
day,"  and  "  having  done  all,  to  stand." 

3.  Again  is  this  invitation  delivered  to  us,  and  the  whole 
imagery  of  this  very  parable  vividly  exhibited,  when,  after 
the  ministerial  proclamation  of  divine  forgiveness  to  "  all 
that  with  hearty  repentance  and  true  faith  turn  to  God,"  we 
are  admitted  to  share,  in  a  mystery,  the  spiritual  sustenance 
of  the  Lord's  holy  table.  It  is  in  the  sense  of  this  close 
and  obvious  application,  that  our  own  Church  warns  her 
communicants  to  "  come  holy  and  clean  to  such  a  heavenly 
feast,  in  the  marriage  garment  required  of  God  in  Holy 
Scripture."  Every  such  occasion  is  indeed  a  shadow, — 
rich,  no  doubt,  with  substantial  blessings,  but  yet  in  its 
prospective  character  a  shadow,  of  the  eternal  festival, 
com6«ie(Z  zf/Z/i  the  eternal  judgment  to  come.     Hence  it  is 


216  The  Wedding  Garment.  [SERM.  xill. 

that,  with  its  character  of  inestimable  blessedness,  St  Paul 
so  awfully  mingles  (exactly  as  in  our  parable)  the  notion  of 
an  accompanying  judgment: — "  Let  a  man  examine  himself? 
and  so  let  him  eat;"  "he  that  eateth  and  drinketh  un- 
worthily, eateth  and  drinketh  damnation,"  or  "judgment," 
"  to  himself."  And  so  should  each  Christian  make  every 
such  periodical  approach  to  God  an  occasion  of  earnest  and 
thoughtful  self-inquiry;  an  anticipation  of  the  last  awful 
scrutiny;  a  prelibation  of  judgment;  an  inward  realizing 
of  that  tremendous  hour  when  sight  shall  behold, — in 
horror  or  in  transport, — the  Christ,  who  is  now  spiritually 
and  sacramentally  received  by  faith. 

4.  But  not  alone  in  those  holy  offices  of  the  house  of 
God  (two  of  them  the  express  provision  of  Christ  Himself, 
and  channels  of  His  mysterious  graces,  the  third  an  ancient 
and  holy  observance  in  which  God's  presence,  if  not  directly 
covenanted,  may  be  confidingly  hoped);  not  alone  in  these 
is  the  merciful  invitation  of  our  God  to  His  high  festival 
given  and  received.  His  own  words  forbid  any  such  limi- 
tation: "All  day  long  have  I  stretched  out  mine  hands." 
"  Wisdom  uttereth  her  voice  in  the  streets ;  she  crieth  in 
the  chief  place  of  concourse"  (the  highways  of  our  parable), 
"in  the  opening  of  the  gates:  in  the  city  she  uttereth  her 
words."  Every  urgent  appeal  of  the  ministers  of  Christ 
to  their  charges, — every  new  proclamation  of  "  the  good- 
ness and  severity  of  God," — every  exhortation  that,  sinners 
themselves,  they  yet  feel  constrained  to  make  to  fellow- 
sinners, — all  alike  are  reiterated  utterances  of  the  one  per- 
petual invitation  of  the  Lord  of  this  everlasting  festival, 
eager  to  crowd  His  banquet  with  happy  and  rejoicing 
guests.  The  desire  to  return  to  Him  is  itself  a  proof  of 
His  willingness  to  receive;  for  it  was  He  who  gave,  and 
therefore  gave  the  desire.  At  this  hour,  though  weak  are 
the  lips  that  deliver  to  you  His  message,  yet  it  is  His 
message  still.  He  it  is  who  Himself  solicits  you  who  listen, 
by  me  who  speak,  and  prays  you  from  His  own  omnipo- 


SERM.  XIII.]  TJlc  Wedding  Garment.  217 

tent  throne  to  hear  and  to  believe.  He  forces  not  your 
obedience ;  He  beseeches  you  to  obey.  It  is  the  mystery 
of  the  parable  that  God  is  suppliant  to  Ilis  creature.  He 
who  agonized  beneath  created  hands,  still  in  the  perpetu- 
ated spirit  of  that  miraculous  love,  as  it  were,  protracts 
His  own  humiliation,  and  beseeches  the  beings  He  has 
made  to  make  Him  happy  by  making  themselves  blessed. 
He  could  compel,  but  He  will  not ;  for  He  understands  His 
own  glory.  It  is  His  highest  glory  to  conciliate  divine 
omnipotence  with  the  unimpaired  freedom  of  man,  that 
"  His  people"  should  be  "  ivilling  in  the  day  of  His  poiverP 

Through  all  the  creation  below  man  His  will  is  the  law 
of  their  operations.  In  man  alone, — free,  self  conscious 
man, — His  will  would  risk  the  dishonor  of  disobedience, 
that  it  might  enjoy  the  glory  of  voluntary  subjection. 
Served  by  the  powers  of  the  inanimate  universe,  the  King 
of  all  that  wondrous  array  wearies  of  an  obedience  that 
proves  but  His  power  and  His  wisdom.  He  demands  a 
higher  and  holier  bond  than  the  laws  of  brute  nature  can 
supply, — unconscious,  mechanical  ministers  of  His  will. 
The  orbs  of  heaven,  "  the  moon  and  the  stars  which  he 
hath  ordained,"  revolve  in  obedience  to  a  command  they 
know  not.  But  He  would  be  obeyed  by  the  nobler  attrac- 
tions of  the  heart ;  the  willing  service,  in  which  love  is  the 
all-sufiicing  law  that  preserves  the  spirits  of  His  blessed 
ones  revolving,  in  changeless  harmony,  around  the  divine 
centre  of  their  regenerate  life. 

5.  And  yet  there  is  a  force,  an  indirect  and  most  gracious 
constraint,  whereby  He  would  sometimes  remind  the  care- 
less of  His  invitation.  The  "  chasiisemenis'''  of  God  speak 
His  summons  with  an  eloquence  of  their  own.  Earthly 
tribulations  are  His  Apostles.  It  is  in  the  depths  of 
mourning  hearts  His  call  meets  its  surest,  its  profoundest 
echo.  "  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,"  to  whom  mourning 
has  taught  the  need  of  this  higher  consolation;  happy  the 
tempest  that  casts  its  wrecks  upon  the  shores  of  Paradise. 
19 


218  The  Wedding  Garment.  [SERM.  XIII. 

The  object  which  preachers  have  vainly  essayed  for  years, 
one  stroke  of  affliction  may  achieve.  It  is  when,  alone 
and  comfortless,  amid  his  crushed  and  shattered  hopes,  the 
victim  slowly  awakes  to  the  treachery  of  the  "god  of  this 
world,"  that  we  may  trust  the  rebel  heart  will  at  length 
bethink  itself  of  returning  to  its  abandoned  God. 

Thus  at  all  seasons,  and  in  all  forms,  goes  forth  the 
incessant  proclamation  of  a  God  who  still  waiteth  to  be 
gracious,  the  invitation  of  the  ever-merciful  King  to  the 
whole  multitude  of  His  subjects.  In  sacraments  He 
solemnly  delivers  it ;  in  exhortations  He  renews  and  "un- 
folds it ;  in  all  the  dispensations  of  His  high  providence,  by 
pressing  contrasts.  He  emphatically  enforces  its  need.  His 
offer  is  universal^  for  He  would  be  absolved  before  heaven 
and  earth  when  that  offer  is  despised.  Man's  own  reason 
shall  have  to  acknowledge  that  man,  if  condemned,  was  not 
unwarned ;  that  if  he  did  not  come  to  God,  it  was  not  that 
God  did  not  come  to  him.  Conscience,  overpowered  on 
earth,  shall  assume  a  terrible  activity  in  the  world  of  pun- 
ishment, it  shall  retain  a  fearful  energy  to  condemn ;  and  in 
the  abode  of  ruin  itself,  the  miserable  attestation  shall  be 
uttered,  of  the  long-suffering  of  God,  of  neglected  mercies 
whose  remembrance  shall  then  constitute  the  deepest  bitter- 
ness of  its  despair. 

II.  So  much  for  the  divine  invitation.  Suppose  it  now 
delivered  and  accepted;  the  attire  that  suits  the  festival 
must  yet  be  provided ;  the  "  wedding  garment"  for  this 
heavenly  banquet  has  still  to  be  sought  and  gained.  For 
it  is  quite  plain,  from  the  parable  itself,  that  the  invitation 
may  be  given,  that  man  may  really  receive  it,  and  really 
avail  himself  of  the  privilege  it  bestows,  and  yet  be  desti- 
tute of  this  further  necessary  qualification.  Nor  must  any 
artificial  system  of  theology  be  allowed  to  obscure  so  mani- 
fest and  undeniable  a  truth  as  this. 

Clear,  however,  as  is  the  great  lesson  of  the  whole  (the 
happy  instrument,  we  may  trust,  of  warning  to  thousands 


SERM.  XIII.]  The  Wedding  Garment.  219 

who  have  been  content  to  receive  it  in  its  general  purport), 
the  precise  significancy  of  this  wedding  garment  has  been 
made  matter  of  uncertainty,  and  even  (from  its  connection 
with  another  and  larger  question)  of  bitter  controversy.  I 
have  no  intention  now  of  conducting  you  into  these  laby- 
rinths. One  consideration  I  shall  hazard,  because  it  seems 
to  me  to  be  very  commonly  overlooked.  The  garment 
must,  surely,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  image,  have  been 
intended  to  signify  something  public  and  visible,  in  whicli 
each  wearer  harmonizes  with  all,  and  all  with  the  spirit  of 
the  peculiar  scene  into  which  they  are  introduced,  and  to 
which  the  dress  is  appropriate.  I  would  say,  then,  that  by 
this  remarkable  symbol  our  Lord  did  not  intend,  merely 
the  inward  principle  of  faith  exclusively  considered,  nor 
yet  merely  the  mysterious  imputation  of  righteousness, 
through  indentification  with  Christ  (though  these  are,  no 
doubt,  necessary  conditions  and  first  steps  to  its  possession) ; 
for  apparel  is,  of  all  things,  the  most  manifest  and  visible, 
and  the  wedding  apparel  is  specially  the  apparel  of  joy. 
This  festal  garment  of  heaven,  then,  which  each  man  must 
bring  with  him  into  the  high  presence  of  God,  seems  to  be 
no  other  than  that  celestial  temper  which  manifests  itself 
by  the  infallible  indications  of  a  holy  joy, — that  spiritual 
sympathy  with  the  things  of  the  spiritual  world,  whicli 
exhibits  itself  in  cordial,  irrepressible  demonstrations  of  the 
blessedness  within ;  holy  happiness,  public  and  expressed ; 
the  "joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost" — no  longer  a  secret,  timid, 
half-uttered  delight,  but  sparkling  in  the  eye,  and  fearless 
in  the  voice ;  the  "  life"  no  longer  "  hid  with  Christ  in  God," 
but  "  apparent  with  Him  in  glory."  I  repeat  it,  inward 
spiritual  happiness,  developed  by  the  presence  of  God,  and 
the  consciousness  of  heaven,  into  visible  manifestation^ — 
this  is  the  "  wedding  garment"  which  Christ  beholds  and 
approves  in  the  saved. 

Thus  viewed,  this  blessed  possession — this  glorious  visi- 
ble vesture  of  the  spirit — is  not  merely  that  "  putting  on  of 


220  The  Wedding  Garment.  [seem.  XITI. 

Christ"  which  accompanies  the  Christian's  justification,  it  is 
rather  that  first  blessedness  seen  in  its  ultimate  consumma- 
tion. The  Christ,  who  first  covers  us  to  shield  and  protect, 
is,  in  the  day  of  His  power,  represented  as  covering  us  to 
adorn  and  to  glorify.  The  cloak  that  shelters  from  the 
tempest  becomes,  as  it  were,  gradually  transfigured  into 
the  garment  that  decorates  for  the  bridal.  "  Gradually,"  I 
say,  for  here  is  the  profound  importance  of  the  lesson  taught 
us  in  the  parable.  The  garment  is  the  gradual  attainment 
of  a  life  of  progressive  sanctification.  The  guest  is  re- 
proved for  having  entered  the  banquet-hall  without  it. 
He  should,  it  seems,  have  sought  it  before  he  came.  He 
should  have  brought  it  with  him  from  that  earthly  scene 
which  is  but  the  antechamber  of  heaven ;  it  is  not,  "  How, 
after  thou  hadst  reached  my  presence,  soughtest  thou  not 
the  fitting  vestment  for  my  feast?"  but  "How  earnest  thou 
in  hither,  not  having  a  wedding  garment?" 

The  wedding  garment,  then,  must  be  woven  and  fashioned 
on  earth.  It  must  be  brought  from  thence  with  each  happy 
spirit  to  heaven.  And  if  that  garment  be  such  as  I  have 
suggested,  what  does  this  import  but  that  on  earth  must  be 
formed  the  temper  suitable  to  heaven,  the  disposition  fitted 
for  that  blessed  abode ;  and  more  specifically,  as  here  more 
directly  intended, — the  temper  of  a  cheerful  and  animated 
sympathy  with  holiness, — of  a  high  and  celestial  joy  ?  A 
moment  to  each  of  these  particulars. 

That  the  temper  suitable  to  a  heavenly  existence  mast 
be,  in  substance,  acquired  beforehand  on  earth;  in  other 
words,  that  in  those  who  are  forgiven  and  accepted  at  the 
last  day,  there  will  not  (as  perhaps  men  sometimes  dream) 
be  a  sudden  change  of  the  spiritual  nature  to  fit  it  for 
heaven,  but  rather  a  continuance  of  the  previous  temper 
of  the  soul  on  earth,  with  new  accessions  of  supernatural 
assistance,  and  the  abolition  of  all  hinderances  to  its  perfect 
growth ;  this,  as  it  is  a  most  indubitable  scriptural  truth, 
so  is  it  nearly  the  most  important  of  all  religious  truths  in 


SERM.  XIII.]  The  Wedding  Garment.  221 

its  practical  results.     There  is  but  one  great  change  spoken 
of  in   Scripture,  as    takhig  place  in  the  whole  lifetime 
of  the  spirit  of  man,  and  that  is  a  change  on  earth.     Such 
as  are  our  hopes  and  joys  on  earth,  such  shall  they  be  for 
everlasting.     It  is  surely  unnecessary  that  I  should  insist 
on  the  j^ractical  bearing  of  this  great  truth,  the  preservation 
of  men's  inward  moral  nature  from  this  world  into  the 
next.     The  source  of  much  indifference  in  religion  is  the 
vague  hope  of  ultimate  2^^'>'don,     But  can   you  not  now 
perceive  that  pardon  itself  would  be  worthless  without  an 
entire  change  of  disposition;   that  this,  therefore,  is  the 
great  object  to  be  perse veringly  sought  after  ?     A  few  sighs 
and  tears  in  the  evening  of  life,  we  fondly  deem,  will  gain 
our  pardon;   but  who  that  has  ever  yet  reflected,  by  the 
lights  of  common  experience,  upon  the  constitution  of  the 
human  heart,  will  say  that  a  few  sighs  and  tears  will  change 
the  nature?     Plainly,  then,  you   are   omitting   the   chief 
element  of  this  great  revolution  in  the  relations  between 
you  and  God;  infatuated  to  calculate  at  all  upon  a  barely 
possible  future,  you  are  doubly  infatuated  when  you  leave 
out  of  your  calculation  the  principal  item  in  the  reckoning. 
The  pardon  will  open  the  gates  of  the  King's  palace  to  the 
guest;  but  those  gates  are  equallj^  open  for  his  rejection,  if 
he  lack  the  wedding  garment. 

But  this,  the  solemn,  the  mysterious  phrase  in  question, 
recalls  us  from  the  general  principle  to  the  particular  case. 
A  heavenly  vesture  of  the  spirit  must  be  borne  with  us 
from  life  to  the  death-bed,  from  the  death-bed.  to  the  grave, 
from  the  grave,  across  the  whole  unknown  world  of  spirits, 
to  the  glory;  a  vesture  woven  on  earth,  but  even  there 
woven  of  undecaying  texture,  and  fitted  for  the  wear  of 
immortality.  But  we  have  seen  there  is  something  more 
distinct  and  definite  here.  Not  evenj  garment  of  holiness 
is  designated  in  the  mystic  story ;  but  the  garment  of  a 
wedding,  the  garment  of  festivity,  the  garment  then  of  joy. 

I  must  not  pause  to  remind  you, — ^^ou  cannot  need  to 

19^^ 


222  The  Wedding  Oarment.  [SEKM.  Xlil. 

be  reminded, — how  essential  an  element  is  this  grace  in 
the  complex  of  the  Christian  life;  how,  if  Scripture  may 
be  trusted,  the  whole  spiritual  life,  amid  all  its  trials  and 
distresses,  is,  in   some   mysterious   way,  involved   in   an 
atmosphere  of  joy.     I  am  not  now  about  to  investigate  the 
causes,  or  the  nature  of  this  happy  state;  I  must  for  the 
present  assume  as  a  mere  fact  that  it  is  a  real  characteristic 
of  the  holiness  of  earth,  and  (still  more  undeniably)  of  the 
happiness  of  heaven ;  and  I  now  only  desire  to  press  it  as 
a  simple  test  of  your  own  fitness  for  that  world  to  which  it 
is  eminently  appropriate.     I  do  so,  because  it  seems  to  be 
a  matter  upon  which  no  amount  of  self-delusion  can  blind 
us.     A  man  may  persuade  himself  of  much  that  is  imagi- 
nary, but  he  can  hardly  believe  that  he  derives  joy  from  a 
field  of  thought  which  never  yields  it.     The  feeling  of  joy 
is  too  distinct  and  characteristic  for  any  counterfeit.     And 
if  a  man  can  scarcely  mistake  indifference  for  joy,  how  yet 
more  decisive  is  the  test  when  indifference  is  exchanged 
for  positive  distaste  and  repugnance;  when,  so  far  from 
forming  the  constant  spring  of  happiness,  the  topic  of  re- 
ligion is  barely  endured  for  two  or  three  tedious  hours  each 
seventh  day;  and  the  very  mention  of  its  grounds  of  hope 
and  consolation,  in  the  ordinary  intercourse  of  society, 
seems  something  strange,  unexpected,  indecorous,  intrusive; 
when  religious  themes,  under  the  honorable  exile  of  an 
affected  reverence,  are,  in  substance,  banished  from  each 
social  reunion,  and  friends  can  meet  and  pour  into  friendly 
ears  every  detail  of  sorrow  or  joy,  but  that  which  is  to 
make   the   sorrow  or  joy,  and   can   alone   constitute   the 
friendships,  of  an  eternity.     When  religion  is  thus  dis- 
tasteful and  thus  evaded,  need  I  say  how  decisive  and 
terrible  a  test,  in  such  a  case,  becomes  the  startling  question, 
— what  amount  of   our  hcqjpiness  truly  arises  from  this 
source? — what  is  the  ardor  of  our  joy,  the  rapture  of  our 
hope,  in  the  contemplation  of  heaven  and  of  God?     Our 
life  is  decorous, — yes,  but  is  it  spiritually  joyful?     Our 


SERM.  XIIT.]  Tlie  Wedding  Garment.  223 

religious  observances  arc  regular, — yes,  but  are  they  tlie 
deliglited  utterance  of  gratitude  and  praise?  We  violate 
no  plain  precept  among  tlie  Commandments, — grant  it, 
alas!  liow  unmerited  liberality  of  concession! — but,  even 
so,  do  you  rejoice  in  keeping  them?  We  exhibit  the  de- 
portment of  Christians,  we  wear  the  outward  costume  and 
apparel  of  moral  propriety ; — yes,  but  where  shall  we  look 
for  the  brighter  apparel  of  the  soul,  the  brilliance  and 
beauty  of  the  festive  robes  of  rejoicing  saintliness,  the  glory 
of  the  "wedding  garment?" 

Such  is  the  test  I  propose  to  you,  as  simple  and  irresisti- 
ble ;  God  grant  to  us  all  earnestness  and  sincerity  to  apply 
it!  But  this  is  the  work  of  the  life  that  now  is, — of  the 
world  of  time  and  of  trial.  The  parable  stretches  beyond 
it.  We  follow  the  great  Eevealer;  He  withdraws  the 
curtain,  and  the  scenery  of  eternity  is  before  us. 

III.  The  hour  is  at  last  arrived,  the  burden  of  so  many 
prophecies, — the  hour  to  which  all  other  hours  are  but 
preparatory, — the  hour  of  the  everlasting  union  and  the 
everlasting  separation.  "The  marriage  of  the  Lamb  is 
come,  and  His  wife  hath  made  herself  ready."  "  Blessed 
are  they  which  are  called  unto  the  marriage  supper  of  the 
Lamb ;"  yea,  blessed  are  they  which  are  "  called,"  for  of  the 
called  are  the  "chosen." 

And  now  the  courts  of  heaven  are  peopled  with  the 
crowding  guests  of  God,  the  multitude  of  those  to  whom 
mercy  and  acceptance  has  been  proffered,  and  who.  hence, 
in  whatever  spirit,  professed  to  obey  the  call.  Manifold, 
no  doubt,  and  complicated,  are  the  feelings  in  all  that  myriad 
host  of  candidates  for  glory.  But  Scripture  ever  takes 
large  and  general  distinctions.  They  have,  or  they  have 
not,  the  temper  of  heaven,  the  heart  trained  to  the  love,  and 
fitted  for  the  eternal  service,  of  God.  They  have,  or  they 
have  not  (for  the  single  guest  of  the  parable  is,  of  course, 
but  the  representative  of  a  multitude  like  him)  the  spirit 
of  a  holy  sympathy  with  the  ways  and  works  of  God,  the 


224  The  Wedding  Garment.  [SERM.  xill. 

rejoicing  anticipation  that  exults  in  the  new  scene  of  duty 
before  it;  for  the  happiness  of  heaven  is  the  happiness  of 
everkstingij  serving  God,  and  is  intelligible  only  to  those 
who  love  that  service.  They  possess,  or  not,  the  hope,  the 
joy,  suitable  to  this  mighty  spousal  of  earth  and  heaven,  in 
short,  the  "wedding  garment"  of  the  soul ! 

Of  this  indispensable  requisite,  the  need  (which  is,  as  we 
shall  see,  altogether  unfelt  by  the  wretched  defaulter  him- 
self) is  at  once  visible  to  the  penetrating  glance  of  God. 
"  When  the  king  came  in  to  see  the  guests,  he  saw  there  a 
man  which  had  not  on  a  wedding  garment."  "  A  man," — 
he  is  represented  as  single,  to  impress  more  perfectly  the 
accurate  scrutiny  of  the  divine  eye,  detecting  the  individual 
amid  the  multitude ;  and  also  in  order  that  each  of  us  may 
more  distinctly  appropriate  to  himself  the  individual  lesson. 
The  eternal  Judge,  now  about  to  purify  his  long  defiled 
Church,  beholds  the  culprit  who  dares  to  claim  glory  while 
nnattired  for  glory.  The  awful  eye,  rapidly  traversing  the 
ranks  of  the  blessed,  pauses  darkly  upon  him.  You  re- 
member the  memorable  moment  when  "  the  Lord  looked 
upon  Peter,"  and  the  Lord  looks  upon  the  guilty  now 
again.  But,  oh,  difference  dread  and  unspeakable !  It  is 
the  same  God  that  gazes,  yet  that  look  was  of  grace,  this  of 
judgment,— that  to  melt,  this  to  scorch  and  to  consume. 
Uneasy,  fearful  misgivings  glide  into  the  heart  of  the 
wretched  man ;  for  the  first  time  conscience  is  aroused,  and 
her  late  awaking  is  terrible ;  for  the  first  time  he  feels  the 
hopeless  distance  of  his  own  state  from  the  purity  of  a 
world  of  holiness.  Dim  recollections  return,  of  warnings 
despised  in  that  long-vanished  earthly  life,  now  so  dream- 
like and  so  distant.  Words  that  once  seemed  meaningless, 
the  cant  of  superstition  or  weakness,  come  back  upon  him 
fraught  with  terrible  truth.  Even  before  the  Judge  has 
spoken  he  feels  his  ruin  sealed.  And  yet  the  words  are 
calm  and  untroubled : — "  Friend^  how  earnest  thou  in  hither, 
not  having  a  wedding  garment?"      "Follower  of  mine! 


SERM.  XIII.J  The  Wedding  Garment.  225 

how  is  it  thou  hast  thought  to  bring  the  defilements  of  the 
world,  the  '  garment  spotted  with  the  flesh'  into  this  home 
of  holiness?  A  servant  of  mine, — where  is  the  livery  of 
thy  service  ?  A  soldier  of  mine, — where  is  the  uniform  of 
thy  mystical  warfare  ?  Baptismally  consecrated  to  be  a 
priest  of  spiritual  sacrifices,  where  is  the  vestment  of  thy 
priesthood?  Called  to  be  a  king, — a  sharer  of  the  very 
throne  of  Christ, — where  are  thy  royal  robes?"  "And  he 
was  speechless." 

"Speechless!"  It  is  the  terrible  silence  of  conviction. 
Hardly  the  most  thoughtless  have  ever  read  this  parable, 
and  failed  to  be  struck  with  the  force  and  significancy  of 
this  part  of  the  representation.  Of  all  that  multitude  of 
excuses,  that  now  pass  current  to  justify  the  world's  forget- 
fulness  of  its  Maker,  not  one  rises  to  his  lips.  Perhaps 
they  have  wholly  vanished  from  his  thoughts,  in  the  un- 
imaginable terror  of  that  hour.  Or  he  may  remember 
them,  but  feels  them  too  glaringly  worthless  to  hazard  now. 
He  dares  not  address  to  the  visible  God  those  easy  apolo- 
gies for  worldliness,  on  which  he  was  willing  of  old  to 
venture  his  salvation.  He  dares  not  avow  to  God  in  person 
those  excuses  for  sin,  which  are  themselves  a  worse  sin 
than  that  which  they  are  brought  to  justify;  for  the  sin 
may  be  of  sudden  passion,  but  the  excuse  is  of  deliberate 
corruption.  He  dares  not  say, — dare  we  now  to  say, — we 
who  shall  yet  stand  beneath  the  same  awful  eye  that  froze 
his  speech  within  him, — that,  forsooth,  the  engagements  of 
society,  the  necessities,  however  artificial,  yet  the  neces- 
sities of  station,  the  urgency  of  business,  the  more  attractive 
urgencies  of  pleasure, — that  these  things  detained  him  from 
the  life  to  God.  From  one  of  our  own  hired  servants 
should  we  tolerate  such  excuses  as  these  for  a  neglected 
task?  And  is  the  Master  of  us  all  to  endure  them? 
"  Business  ?"  What  business  can  compete  with  the  security 
of  an  immortal  inheritance?  "  Station?"  What  claims  of 
social  position  can  rival  the  claims  of  that  eternal  King, 


226  The  Wedding  Garment  [SERM.  xiii. 

wlio  summons  us  to  be  tlie  honored  officials  of  His  celestial 
administration  ?  "  Pleasure  ?" — but  this  is  too  futile.  Alas ! 
it  is  our  deepest  guilt  tliat  we  find  no  pleasure  in  the  true 
"ways  of  pleasantness,"  and  look  forward  to  none  from 
Him  at  whose  "  right  hand  are  pleasures  for  evermore." 

But  "  he  was  speechless."  He  saw  at  last  into  the  awful 
reality  of  things.  Eeligion,— the  phantom  of  this  world, 
— substantiated  in  all  its  terrific  truth,  and  the  solid-seem- 
ing world  the  phantom  in  its  stead.  The  ghastly  reality 
so  long  evaded  would  be  put  by  no  longer.  Conscience 
was  to  sleep  no  more.  The  vastness  of  the  loss,  the  hope- 
lessness of  the  doom,  the  infatuation  of  the  delusion, — all 
burst  upon  him.  His  heart  withered  within,  and  "  he  was 
speechless."  But  through  all  the  horrible  silence  of  the 
time,  while  all  heaven  was  mute  to  hear,  his  ear  could  catch 
the  awful  voice  that  spoke,  never  to  be  again  heard,  but  to 
leave  its  dread  echo,  for  all  eternity,  within  the  heart : 
"Bind  him  hand  and  foot,  and  take  him  away,  and  cast  him 
into  outer  darkness ;  there  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing 
of  teeth." 

Into  that  abode  of  misery  we  cannot  pursue  him.  It  is 
"  outer  darkness,"  and  in  darkness  be  its  horrors  veiled. 
Not  for  us  is  it  to  sound  those  depths  of  despair,  that  flame 
unquenchable,  that  worm  undying,  that  wall  impassable, 
those  mournings  unpitied,  those  blasphemies  unutterable, 
those  remembrances  of  agony,  that  future  without  hope 
and  without  end.  The  faculties  of  man  must  be  enlarged 
for  even  the  conception  of  such  misery  as  this.  If  there 
be  a  glory  too  bright  for  human  eye  to  gaze  on,  there  is  an 
anguish  too  dark  for  human  eye  as  yet  to  penetrate.  Oh, 
brethren !  if  these  things  be  indeed  so,  and  the  Lord,  who 
shall  yet  judge  us,  hath  truly  thus  drawn  the  portraiture 
of  His  own  last  awful  sitting,  at  once  the  Court  of  His 
regal  presence  and  the  Court  of  His  tremendous  justice  ; — 
if,  indeed,  this  high  qualification  of  which  I  have  spoken 
must  be  acquired,  or  heaven  can  never  be  ours, — if  we 


SERM.  XIII.]  The  Wedding  Garment  227 

must  either  bring  witli  us  this  robe  of  habitual  righteous- 
ness, "  walking  in  white"  as  those  who  are  "  worthy,"  or 
endure  to  be  "  clothed  with  curses  as  with  a  garment"  for 
everlasting ; — if  this  life,  this  little,  dreamlike  life,  slipping 
so  rapidly  away  through  our  hands,  can  never  again  be 
repeated,  but  all  we  do  must  now  be  done,  and  all  we  arc 
to  be  for  ever  we  now  must  learn  to  be ; — if  all  the  glory 
of  this  world,  its  triumphs  and  its  distinctions,  useful  though 
they  be  for  this  temporary  scene,  fold  up  and  fade  as  the 
eye  darkens  in  death,  and  nothing  crosses  the  grave  with 
any  man  but  the  garb  of  the  soul  that  he  bears  with  him 
to  the  Court  of  the  heavenly  King ; — if  God  gives  us  ample 
opportunity  for  making  our  calling  and  election  sure,  so 
that,  if  among  the  "  many  called"  few  be  "  chosen,"  no  man 
can  blame  God  that  he  was  not  among  those  few,  and 
every  excuse  shall  then  be  vain,  and  every  culprit  speech- 
less ; — I  ask  you,  can  any  infatuation  equal  the  infatuation 
of  those,  who,  knowing  all  this  to  be  certain,  can  yet  defer 
tliis  mighty  work,  or  can  be  content  with  the  feeble  im- 
posture of  religion  that  passes  current  with  the  world  for 
the  religion  of  Christ  ?  Nothing  of  man's  mind  survives 
the  grave  but  that  which  is  central  and  inmost  in  his 
nature;  and  if  his  religion  be  not  there,  he  has  left  it  be- 
hind him  with  the  world,  of  which  it  was  a  part :  it  goes 
not  with  him  to  the  judgment,  and  he  is  condemned.  The 
religion  of  the  world  is  no  more  a  thing  permanent  and 
immortal  than  any  other  element  of  the  world.  More, 
surely  more,  than  this  there  needs  to  be,  or  Christ  has 
taught  us  the  mighty  lesson  of  this  day  in  vain.  This  deep 
and  vital  union  of  heart  and  soul  with  the  will  and  pur- 
poses of  God, — this  harmonizing  of  the  tone  and  temper  of 
our  thoughts  with  the  eternal  world  that  awaits  us, — this 
joj'ous  sympathy  with  heaven  and  things  heavenly  which 
I  have  spoken  of,  as  more  especially  the  garment  of  the 
spirit  that  befits  the  marriage  festival  to  come, — this  is  the 
abiding  clement  over  which  the  grave  has  no  power,  which, 


228  The  Wedding  Garment.  [seem.  xiii. 

disappearing  from  tliis  life  with  the  departing  soul,  shall 
re-appear  with  the  soul  itself  in  heaven,  and  receive  the 
approving  smile  of  God.  This,  and  nothing  short  of  this, 
is  His  demand  in  those  who  will  be  meet  for  His  inherit- 
ance ;  and  till  this  be  yours,  you  deceive  your  own  souls  if 
you  relax.  If  at  this  hour  you  feel  one  faint  impulse  to 
seek  the  blessing,  cherish  that  impulse  as  His  gift,  welcome 
it  as  His  call.  He  would  thus  arouse  you  to  aspire  after 
the  glory  He  offers.  He  would,  thus  even  now  raise  your 
thoughts  above  this  world,  only  that  He  may  fix  them 
permanently  upon  Himself.  He  knows  that  man  yearns 
after  enduring  happiness,  and  He  would  not  disappoint 
that  inborn  thirst  of  the  heart.  He  would  direct  those 
desires,  that  now  go  astray  among  the  glittering  phantoms 
of  time,  till  they  fix  upon  a  nobler  and  more  enduring 
mark, — the  immutable  realities  of  eternity.  Terrible  as 
we  have  seen  Him  in  His  mysterious  wrath.  He  is  more 
divinely  abundant,  more  Himself,  in  acts  of  mercy.  A 
God  who  "is  love"  would  willingly  cast  no  man  "into 
outer  darkness."  Therefore  by  His  written  word,  and  by 
the  incessant  voice  of  His  ministers,  doth  He  this  day,  and 
every  day,  reiterate  these  offers  of  unbounded  acceptance 
to  the  "  many  that  be  called."  May  the  same  grace  that 
speaks  in  the  call,  by  a  yet  deeper  and  more  abiding  ope- 
ration, enable  you,  joyfully  receiving  the  call,  to  place 
yourselves  at  last  among  the  blessed  "  few  that  be  chosen." 


SERMON  XIV. 

CHRIST  SOUGHT  AND  FOUND  IN  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 
SCRIPTURES. 

Search  the  Scriptures ;  for  in  them  ye  think  ye  have  eternal  life  :  and  they  are 
they  which  testify  of  me. — John  y.  39. 

In  tbe  remarkable  address,  of  which  these  words  form  a 
part,  oar  Lord  is  engaged  in  proclaiming  and  enforcing  His 
dignity,  personal  and  official;  and  it  is  in  order  to  confirm 
His  assertions  that  He  makes  the  appeal  they  contain.  He 
had  been  challenged,  by  the  cold-hearted  hypocrisy  of  the 
Pharisaic  Jews,  for  the  crime  of  working  a  miracle  of  mercy 
on  the  sabbath-day.  The  act,  it  might  be  supposed,  not 
only  as  merciful  but  as  miraculous,  was  its  own  justifica- 
tion; for  He,  who  could  perform  it,  must  have  had  a  com- 
mission from  on  high  competent  to  the  suspension,  or  even 
the  abolition,  of  any  ceremonial  enactment.  On  this  our 
Lord  insists ;  but  not  on  this  at  first.  The  structure  of  His 
address  is  indeed  very  observable.  He  commences  with  a 
proposition  of  the  utmost  height  and  universality,  and  He 
gradually  descends  to  the  lower  topics  and  sources  of  proof. 
He  begins  (ver.  17)  with  an  assertion  of  His  co-equality 
with  His  Father.  "  Up  to  this  moment"  (sabbath-day  and 
all  days)  "my  Father  worketh  and  I  work;"  an  answer 
whose  force  and  pertinency  can  rest  only  on  the  unex- 
pressed assumption  of  a  natural  and  inherent  equality  of 
privilege ;  the  argument  manifestly  being,  that,  if  the  Father 
could  be  justified  in  His  incessant  activity,  the  Son  must 
20 


230  Christ  sought  and  found  in  the       [SERM.  XIV. 

share  in  the  same  justification,  as  sharing  in  the  same  rights 
and  dignities.  So  the  Jews  unquestionably  understood  it ; 
their  persecution  was  built  on  the  assumption ;  Christ  was 
the  daily  martyr  of  His  claims  to  divinity.  And  so,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  the  very  form  of  St  John's  comment  (ver. 
18)  proves  him  to  have  interpreted  Jesus  also ;  for  it  seems 
to  me  highly  probable  that  the  words  "making  Himself 
equal  with  God,"  are  meant  by  the  Evangelist,  not  only  as 
the  Jewish  charge,  but  as  St  John's  own  comment  upon  the 
claim  of  sonship;  the  accusation  of  assuming  equality  with 
God  being  not  denied^  but  justified;  and  the  Evangelist  in 
that  clause  intending  willingly  to  allow  that,  in  claiming 
God  as  "His  own  Father"  {Ihtov  Ttatipa),  Christ  had  implicitly 
claimed  a  community  of  nature,  and  thence  an  equality  of 
dignity.  Our  Lord,  however,  hastens,  as  usual,  to  prevent 
the  unity  of  nature  from  absorbing  the  distinctness  of  per- 
son, and  hiding  the  speciality  of  the  personal  functions  in 
this  divine  economy.  Accordingly  He  descends, — if  it  be 
a  descent, — (vv.  19,  20)  to  declare,  that  such  is  the  unani- 
mity of  purpose,  and  the  mysterious  co-operation,  of  the 
Father  and  Son,  that  "  the  Son  can  do  nothing  of  Himself 
but  what  He  seeth  the  Father  do ;"  that  it  is  the  Father's 
to  give  the  initiative,  but  that  ^^  whatsoever  the  Father  doeth 
the  Son  doeth  likewise."  In  this,  or  after  this,  He  passes 
(vv.  21-30)  into  His  mediatorial  subordination,  and  pro- 
nounces that  the  bestowal  of  life,  and  the  dispensation  of 
judgment,  are  committed  to  His  administration. 

And  now,  having  published  these  lofty  characteristics  of 
His  nature  and  office,  He  comes  at  once  upon  the  question 
of  credentials.  "If  I  bear  witness  of  myself,  my  witness  is 
not  true."  But  He  had  a  manifold  evidence,  distinct  from 
His  own.  He  had  the  evidence  of  his  father,  speaking 
from  heaven,  and  speaking  in  the  awful  language  of  miracles; 
He  had  the  evidence  of  St  John  the  Baptist,  till  then  the 
greatest  born  of  woman  ;  and,  finally,  he  had  the  evidence 
of  the  text,  the  evidence  of  the  Scriptures.     The  transition 


SERM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  Scriptures.  231 

to  this  topic  is  ejected  in  tlic  preceding  verse  :  "  Ye  have 
not  His  iwrd  abiding  in  you,  for  whom  lie  hath  sent,  Him 
ye  believe  not. . . .  Search  the  Scriptures,  for  they  testify  of 
me."     The  voice  of  the  Father  from  heaven,  and  the  voice 
of  God  in  His  word,  He  classes  as  two  forms  of  the  same 
general  attestation  :  "Ye  have  neither  heard  His  voice  at 
any  time  nor  seen  His  shape,  and  ye  have  not  His  luord 
abiding  in  you."    You  have  neither  witnessed  Him  speak- 
ing immediately,  nor  understood  Him  speaking  mediately. 
And  if  you  prefer  to  regard  the  miracles  as  another  conjoint 
department  of  the  Father's  evidence,  which  is  perhaps  the 
simpler  way  of  analyzing  the  import  of  this    profound 
passage,  from  ver.  31  to  40,  you  may  (slightly  altering  your 
point  of  view)  regard  our  Lord  as,  for  the  present,  ivaiving 
the  testimony  of  John,  as  belonging  to  an  inferior  class  of 
evidences  ("I  receive  not  testimony  from  man....  I  have 
greater  witness  than  that  of  John,"— vv.  33,  36),  and  mainly 
engaged  in  setting  forth  (agreeably  to  his  preceding  state- 
me°ntl  of  a  commission  from  the  Father)  the  threefold  at- 
testation which  the  Father  had  furnished  to  this  great  truth, 
>- the  voice  from  heaven,  the  miracles  on  earth,  and  the 
Scriptures  echoing  from  all  past  ages.     God  spoke  in  them 
all,  and  in  them  all  he  accredited  Jesus  as  His  Messiah. 
.    "Ye    search,"  declares  Christ,— for  the  word   may  be 
rendered  either  as  a  command  or  an  assertion,  and  the 
latter  seems  both  more  natural  and  more  pointed,—"  Ye 
search  the  Scriptures  because  in  them  ye  think  ye  have 
eternal  life;  now  these  very  Scriptures  testify  of  me  ;  and, 
nevertheless,  ye  will  not  come  to  me  that  ye  may  liave  the 
life  ye  seek."     "  Of  late  you  have  learned  to  scrutinize  the 
Scriptures,  to  compare,  to  balance,  to  infer.     You  have 
been  taught  to  seek  in  them  satisfactory  and  solid  proofs 
of  an  eternal  happiness  beyond  the  grave  ;  you  think  you 
have  the  treasure  securely  laid  np  in  them  ;  and  it  is  true, 
but  only  true  as  they  testify  of  me.     Your  unhappy  incon- 
sistency is  this,  that  believing  life  to  be  in  your  Scriptures, 


232  Christ  sougld  and  found  in  the       [SERM.  XIV. 

you  will  not  believe  it  to  be  where  those  Scriptures  have 
placed  it.  You  contend  with  3^011  r  Sadducean  opponents 
that  the  promise  is  indeed  there ;  but  you  agree  with  them 
in  rejecting  Ilim  on  whom  the  promise  is  suspended. 
Surprisingly  clear-sighted  to  a  certain  point,  from  that 
point  you  are  blind."  This  seems  to  me  to  be  the  simplest 
mode  of  connecting  the  sense  of  the  thirty-ninth  and  fortieth 
verses.  With  the  remainder  of  the  discourse  (which  is 
partly  a  corroboration  of  this  topic)  we  have  at  present  no 
concern. 

In  this  passage,  then,  thus  understood  (and  it  will  not 
make  any  material  difference,  as  to  the  substance  of  the 
argument,  whether  you  render  the  first  word  in  the  impera- 
tive or  indicative),  our  Lord  may  be  considered  as  advanc- 
ing two  assertions ;  that  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment testify  of  Him^  and  that  they  testify  of  Him  in  the 
special  character  of  a  source  or  dispenser  of  eternal  life.  I 
will  endeavor  to  engage  you  with  both  these  topics;  not 
in  the  way  of  minute  discussion  of  separate  passages,  which 
would  be  the  work  of  days  and  volumes,  but  in  the  way 
perhaps  more  calculated  for  pulpit  utility,  by  large  and 
general  comment,  which  may  subsequently  serve  to  animate 
or  direct  your  own  private  studies  or  reflections.  I  am 
about  to  regard  the  Hebrew  Scriptures  simply  as  a  collec- 
tion of  written  records,  a  body  of  writings  of  various  dates, 
bearing  manifestly  on  the  same  general  subjects;  and,  for 
my  present  purpose,  it  would  be  of  no  importance  if  we 
received  them  for  the  first  time  into  our  hands,  and  knew 
little  or  nothing  beyond  what  the  collection  itself  informs 
us.  There  were  certain  records  accounted  authentic  and 
venerable  among  the  people,  and  to  these,  simply  as  written 
documents,  and  to  their  internal  evidences,  our  Lord  in  the 
text  referred.  Let  as  take  those  Scriptures  in  the  onass,  and 
ask  if  their  whole  aspect  is  not  essentially  jorcdictive,  and 
predictive  of  Jesus. 

I.  The   Hebrew  Scriptures,  then,  themselves,  and   the 


SEHM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  ScnjHiires.  233 

people  and  polity  which  form  this  singular  subject,  intimate 
a  wonderful  future,  and  point  altogether  to  it,  and  are 
wholly  inexplicable  unless  on  the  supposition  of  it.  This 
at  once  distinguishes  it  from  every  other  ancient  writing  of 
the  same  kind ;  among  all  national  literatures  this  makes 
the  Jewish  unique.  And  what  is  peculiarly  observable, 
this  characteristic  is  neither  the  growth  of  the  people  them- 
selves, nor  in  any  respect  required  by  their  national  consti- 
tution. The  people,  taken  in  the  gross,  appear  to  have, 
according  to  the  record  itself,  acted  on  temporal  promises; 
little  or  nothing  more  was  exhibited  to  them  by  their 
guides  and  instructors :  the  "  days  long  in  the  land,"  the 
"children  visited  to  the  third  or  fourth  generation," — these 
are  the  stimulants  to  endurance  and  obedience.  And  yet, 
though  this,  and  only  this,  be  discoverable  on  the  surface, 
never,  surely,  existed  writings  which  in  themselves  seem  to 
stretch  so  vastly  beyond  any  temporary  scope;  and  which, 
in  their  very  excellency,  seem  so  perpetually  and  power- 
fully to  evince,  that  the  fate  of  a  single  nation  of  mankind, 
could  never  cover  their  whole  design  and  significancy. 
This  is  the  irresistible  internal  argument  for  the  genuine- 
ness and  authority  of  the  Old  Testament  Scriptures ;  the 
more  forcible  because  it  turns  not  on  detached  passages, — 
these  might  be  called  interpolations, — but  on  the  spirit, 
style,  and  bearing  of  the  whole.  In  this,  however,  you 
must  not  so  much  reason  as  feel;  taste  and  imagination 
(the  powers  that  are  busied  in  the  higher  departments  of 
criticism)  must  be  called  into  action  to  appreciate  the  force 
of  the  argument;  but  thus  appreciated  it  is  irresistible. 
The  law  commands,  but  in  a  tone  that  speaks  more  than  its 
own  limited  commands.  The  prophets  promise  and  threa- 
ten :  but  their  threats  and  promises  swell  beyond  the  mea- 
sure of  the  occasion.  The  voice  of  both  law  and  prophets 
is  too  hud  for  that  little  region  ;  it  is  made  to  fill  a  universe. 
Infidels  have  felt  this,  and  (as  Voltaire)  have  ridiculed  the 
pomp  of  language,  with  which  the  fortunes  arc  predicted 

20^^ 


/ 


234  Christ  songht  and /mind  in  the       [serm.  XIV. 

of  a  people,  whose  narrow  strip  of  counky,  from  end  to  end, 
did  not  reach  two  hundred  miles ;  as  if  this  very  inconsis- 
tency was  not  itself  an  internal  indication  of  boundless 
prophetic  purport,  increasing,  moreover,  as  it  perpetually 
appears  to  do,  in  direct  proportion  to  the  misfortunes  and 
degradation  of  the  people ;  insomuch  that  the  voice  of  pro- 
phecy is  never  more  commanding  or  confident,  than  when 
the  nation  is  all  but  annihilated.  How  short-sighted  is  the 
objection ;  how  narrow-minded  the  prejudice  it  betrays ! 
For  if  a  platform  is  to  be,  indeed,  songht,  adequate  to  be 
the  stage  on  which  a  God  shall  act,  shall  the  world  itself 
suffice  ?  Is  Palestine  more  a  speck  in  the  map  of  the  earth 
than  the  earth  itself  is  in  the  chart  of  the  visible  universe  ? 
— or  the  visible  universe  in  the  vast  array  of  worlds  beyond 
our  ken  ? — or  all  these  together,  compared  with  the  concep- 
tions and  the  dignity  of  the  God  who  made  them  ?  The 
mote  in  the  sunbeam,  and  the  sun  itself,  are  equal  as  regards 
the  eternal  Spirit,  for  both  are  alike  incommensurate  with 
Him !  Palestine  was  chosen  to  be  the  temporary  scene  of 
divine  agency;  but  every  movement  of  that  agency,  as 
recorded  in  this  volume,  indicates  that  the  scene  was  to  be 
hut  temporary,  and  that  this  race  of  Jacob  held  in  trust  for 
the  world.  A  double  voice  was  given  to  their  law  ;  Israel 
might  suffice  to  hear  and  to  obey  the  one  ;  every  child  of 
Adam  was  concerned  to  hear  the  other.  A  double  voice 
was  given  to  their  prophets ;  the  enemies  of  the  chosen  line 
mioht  tremble  at  the  one,  but  the  whole  earth  is  weak  to 
support  or  echo  the  other.  Nay,  is  there  not  something 
significant  in  the  very  choice  oi  iwophecy  for  the  instruction 
of  the  people ;  of  that  beyond  all  other  forms  of  miracu- 
lous interference  ?  Was  it  not  that  the  mind  of  this  people, 
even  when  it  thought  but  of  national  prosperities  and 
national  overthrows,  might  at  least  be  disciplined  to  the 
attitude  of  expectation  ;  that  they,  who  were  emphatically 
the  people  of  the  future,  might  have  every  motive  resolved 
into  hope  and  fear,  and,  carnal  and  confined  as  they  mani- 


SERM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  Scrii^tures.  2o5 

fcstly  were,  might  evermore  be  habituated  to  forget  the 
thing  present  in  the  thing  to  come?  Could  I  be  permitted 
for  a  moment  to  turn  from  the  probabilities  of  my  argu- 
ment to  the  facts  of  lii story,  how  sad  a  commentary  do  these 
facts,  as  so  many  centuries  have  witnessed  them,  furnish  to 
this  remark !  The  truth  perverted  becomes  worse  than  the 
truth  unknown,  the  disappointed  affection  turns,  like  tlie 
scorpion,  to  sting  itself;  and  the  longings  that  once  brightly 
pointed  Judah  to  her  coming  Messiah,  their  legitimate  pur- 
pose past,  have  darkened  and  embittered  into  feverish, 
fruitless,  visionary  discontent! 

Expectation^  then,  is  the  inward  spirit  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, as  Fulfilment  of  the  New.  Wonderful  itself,  its 
function  clearly  is  to  testify  wonders  more  august  to  come. 
From  Moses  to  Malachi,  these  Hebrew  Scriptures  are,  as  it 
were,  one  long-drawn  sigh  o^  sorrowful  hope;  while,  to  make 
the  purposed  lesson  of  imperfection  more  complete,  the 
same  testimony  is  uttered  from  every  rank  and  state  of 
humanity ;  for  of  what  variety  of  human  fortune  will  you 
not  find  an  example  there?  ISTot  from  Jeremiah  in  his 
dungeon  alone,  but  from  the  gorgeous  palace  of  their 
mightiest  king,  at  the  most  consummate  hour  they  record 
of  earthly  prosperity,  comes  forth  the  mournful  strain  (it 
is  the  voice  not  of  Jewish,  but  of  human  nature)  :  "  Vanity 
of  vanities,  all  is  vanity.  ...  I  have  seen  all  the  works  that 
are  done  under  the  sun;  and  behold,  all  is  vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit !" 

Do  we  deny,  then,  that,  considered  in  themselves,  these 
records  of  the  Old  Testament  are  imperfect,  incomplete, 
inconsistent?  Nay,  we  admit  it,  and  we  glory  in  the  ad- 
mission. We  know  that  they  speak  to  Judah  in  language 
too  mighty  for  her  narrow  fortunes,  in  language  too  exalted 
for  her  unenlightened  corruption.  We  know  that  they 
promise  more  than  they  perform,  that  they  begin  what 
they  cannot  end.  They  "cry  out  of  the  depths;"  but  they 
cannot  do  more  than  cry.     Their  voice  is  still,  "  Bow  thy 


236  Christ  sougld  and  found  in  tlie       [SERM.  XIV. 

heavenSj.O  Lord,  and  come  down.  .  .  .  Send  thine  hand/rom 
above  /"  A  mightier  element  than  any  they  contain  must 
indeed  come  down,  to  raise  them  from  their  prostration  ;  a 
new  power  must  be  infused  into  the  human  heart,  even  the 
Spirit  of  God,  bound  up  with  the  spirit  of  man  by  the 
resurrection  of  a  God  incarnate;  this  heavenly  element 
must  have  combined  with  the  earthly  before  the  Law  and 
the  Prophets  shall  have  become  righteousness  and  fulfil- 
ment. Not  from  insulated  predictions  alone,  not  from 
separate  types  alone,  not  from  occasional  allusions  alone, 
but  from  the  whole  spirit,  and  tendency,  and  bearing  of 
the  Hebrew  Scriptures,  was  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  justified 
when  He  declared,  that  "they  are  they  which  testify  of 
Him;"  that,  disjointed  from  Him,  they  were  a  fair  and 
elaborate  structure,  doubtless,  but  shadowy,  nevertheless, 
and  unsubstantial ;  while,  seen  in  the  light  that  His  coming 
flashed  back  upon  that  strange  story  of  four  thousand  years, 
every  page  sparkled  with  illumination,  every  sentence 
quickened  with  meaning ;  the  whole  vast  mass,  in  all  its 
members,  the  awful  law,  the  wonder-laden  history,  the 
Psalm,  of  hope  or  penitence,  the  solemn  proverb,  the 
mystic  prophecy, — all  become  instinct  with  new  vitality, 
invested  with  the  hues  of  the  better  life ;  yea,  that  body 
of  the  Law  and  Prophets  rose,  as  it  were,  and  ascended 
with  its  inspirer,  Jesus,  and,  unchanged  yet  wholly  changed, 
was  with  Him  glorified! 

All,  then,  in  the  Old  Testament  testified  of  restoration 
to  come,  and  in  the  individuality  of  its  types, — things 
definite  all  of  them,  and  personal  the  most, — it  is  testified 
of  a  single  personal  restorer ;  that  is,  as  distinguished  from  a 
general  revolution,  or,  as  added  to  it,  it  pointed  to  an  indi- 
vidual revolutionizer.  But  of  this  we  are  to  speak  presently ; 
suffice  it  now  to  say  that  the  Old  Testament,  overladen  by 
one  sect  of  Jews,  curtailed  by  another,  candidly  studied  by 
none,  witnessed  internally  to  a  mighty  future.  I  pass  not 
beyond  its  own  pages,  1  ask  not  whence  it  came,  nor  how ; 


SERM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  Scriptures.  237 

I  ask  no  external  confirmations  from  contemporary  history, 
I  interrogate  tlie  Book  alone,  and  its  answer  is  unequivocal. 
Nay,  in  this  view,  its  answer  is  often  most  direct  when  its 
language  is  most  obscure.  That  mysterious  volume,  so 
large,  so  various,  whose  remotest  authors  are  a  thousand 
years  asunder,  had  a  single  character,  and  that  character 
was  promissory.  That  still  follows  it  through  all  its  many 
styles  and  all  its  mazy  windings ;  that  still  is  found, — yea, 
more  distinctly  caught, — in  the  dim  recesses  of  those  half 
revealings,  where  it  whispers  more  than  it  speaks  aloud. 
It  is,  in  truth,  as  some  vast  forest, — its  own  Lebanon  or 
Carmel, — dusky  and  shadowy,  yet  with  wondrous  breaks 
and  glimpses  of  sudden  light,  strange  shapes  and  spectres 
in  the  gloom,  and  sometimes  darkness  thick  as  midnight ; 
but  a  majestic  spirit  haunts  the  obscure  immense, — the 
spirit  of  the  future.  Its  presence  startles  us  when  we  least 
expect  it;  and  we  Avalk  with  reverence  and  godly  fear, 
feeling  that  all  we  see  is  holy,  and  all  we  see  not  holier 
still. 

II.  But  we  have  said  that  our  Lord's  words  imply  not 
this  alone,  but  more  than  this ;  that  they  affirm  of  the  elder 
Scriptures  (and  in  them  of  the  dispensation  which  they 
profess  to  record),  that  these  Scriptures  speak  of  a  future, 
which  was  to  be  illustrated  by  the  gift  of  "eternal  life," — 
in  words  more  distinct,  that  they  point  to  death  conquered 
by  sacrifice,  life  won  by  resurrection ;  the  "  life  of  the 
spirit,"  in  holiness  here,  in  immortal  glory  hereafter.  Of 
this,  then,  we  should  now  speak  as  before,  not  with  detailed 
reference  to  special  passages,  but  in  a  general  view  of  the 
entire.  Let  us  stand  in  front  of  the  huge  edifice,  not  to 
criticize  its  plinths  and  capitals,  but  to  take  in  the  eflect  of 
the  whole.  We  are  not  asking  the  shape  or  dimensions  of 
the  features,  but  the  expression  of  the  face.  Ecgarding, 
then,  successively,  the  general  corroboration  furnished  by 
the  Old  Testament  to  the  doctrines  of  atonement,  of  sancti- 
fication,  and  of  immortality,  we  inquire,  first : — 


238  Christ  sought  and  found  in  the       [SERM.  xiv. 

1.  Did  the  volume  of  tlie  Old  Testament  witness  to  an 
atonement  as  tlie  foundation  of  an  eternal  life?  There  are 
those  who  boast  themselves  followers  of  Christ,  and  yet 
deny  this  characteristic.  The  impatience  of  mystery^  which 
is  so  strangely  short-sighted  when  men  have  to  deal  with 
the  substance  of  a  communication  from  heaven^  has  disabled 
them  from  discovering  a  propitiatory  sacrifice  in  the  New 
Testament;  and  the  same  spirit  has  usually  advanced  (on 
grounds  of  perfect  consistency)  either  to  waive  the  Old 
Testament  altogether,  as  antiquated,  local,  and  irrelevant  to 
modern  purposes,  or  to  deny,  by  natural  explications,  every 
thing  miraculous,  and  every  thing  typical  in  its  pages. 
Now  the  object  here  is  to  get  rid  of  mystery, — an  object 
false  and  futile  in  itself,  when  we  argue  of  the  interferences 
of  God  with  man ;  but  let  all  that  is  claimed  be  conceded, 
and  is  the  object  yet  attained  ?  Suppose  it  a  contest  of 
opposite  improbabilities:  let  every  burden  of  miracle  be 
thrown  overboard  by  our  adversaries,  and  shall  they  yet 
have  lightened  their  vessel  of  mystery?  shall  they  have 
presented  an  intelligible  solution  of  the  problem  of  the 
Old  Testament?  Though,  in  the  spirit  of  a  miserable 
criticism,  ministering  to  a  still  more  miserable  philosophy, 
you  were  to  evacuate  that  Old  Testament  of  every  express 
miracle  it  records,  though  you  were  to  convert  the  prophets 
into  jugglers  and  the  people  into  fools,  and  make  of  our 
Elijahs  and  Isaiahs  pretenders  to  power  and  conjecturers 
in  knowledge, — that  is,  though  you  were  substantially  to 
justify  the  Jews  for  that  "blood  of  the  prophets"  which 
Christ  charged  as  their  crime, — could  you  even  so  clear  the 
Old  Testament  of  wonders  ?  You  may  deny  the  story  of 
miracles,  but  can  you  destroy  the  miracle  of  the  story  ? 
You  may  discredit  this  volume  of  miracles, — for  the  Spirit 
of  God  does  not  now  descend  to  silence  its  gainsayers, — 
but  can  you  unmirade  the  obstinate  fact  of  the  volume 
itself?  Can  you  resolve  the  enormous  difficulty  of  this 
history,  these  recorded  habits,  and  above  all,  this  recorded 


SERM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  Scriptures.  239 

religion  ?  You  deny,  or,  in  confessing,  you  neutralize  any 
typical  purport,  any  prospective  atonement:  mark,  then, 
the  mysteries  that  emerge  upon  your  OAvn  supposition. 
The  whole  spiritual  system  of  the  Ilebrew  Scriptures  is 
made  up  of  two  elements,  entwined  with  the  most  intricate 
closeness,  yet  absolutely  opposite  in  character.  You  are 
then  to  answer  satisfactorily,  how  it  was,  that  every  par- 
ticular of  a  long  and  laborious  system  of  minute,  and  often 
very  repulsive,  sacrificial  observances,  is  found  united  in 
the  same  volume  with  conceptions  of  God  that  surpass,  in 
their  profound  and  internal  spirituality,  all  that  unassisted 
man  has  ever  elsewhere  imagined,  nay,  that  all  our  modern 
refinement  is  unable  to  emulate  ?  What  miraculous  mind 
was  it  that  combined  these  singular  contradictions  ?  "Where 
is  there  a  real  parallel  to  this  mysterious  inconsistency? 
Who  is  this  strange  instructor,  or  series  of  instructors,  that 
now  portrays  the  form  of  the  one  everlasting  essence  hid 
in  the  veil  of  attributes  that  are  themselves  unfathomable, 
and  now  issues  the  most  minute  and  elaborate  directions  as 
to  the  proper  mode  and  the  tremendous  obligation  of 
slaughtering  a  yearling  lamb,  and  this  as  the  duty  required 
of  him  who  would  approach  that  eternal  Spirit  f  Who  is 
he  that,  at  one  moment,  enounces  the  simplest,  sublimest 
code  of  human  duties  in  existence, — for  even  Christ  abridged, 
not  altered  it ; — at  another,  nay,  in  the  same  page,  the  same 
sentence,  exhorts,  with  equal  earnestness,  to  the  equal 
necessity  of  drenching  the  earth  \vith  animal  blood  as  the 
appointed  path  of  human  purification?  Here  then  is,  in 
the  very  texture  of  the  Old  Testament  and  its  poUty,  a 
mystery  greater  than  any  you  can  escape  by  denying  its 
predictive  import.  It  is  altogether  insoluble  on  any  sup- 
position but  the  one,  the  supposition  which  alone  can 
elevate  ceremonies  to  the  dignity  of  moral  obligations. 
Judaism  with  a  typified  atonement  may  be  a  miracle  or  a 
chain  of  miracles,  but  Judaism  without  it  is  a  greater 
miracle  still ! 


2-iO  Christ  sought  and  found  in  the       [SERM.  XI  v. 

Impressed,  if  tie  is  impressed,  mtli  sucli  considerations 
as  these,  the  opponent  of  "  mystery"  has,  however,  a  sub- 
terfuge in  reserve.  An  excuse  for  suspense  is  quite  as  wel- 
come as  an  excuse  for  disbelief.  He  contents  himself  with 
observing,  that  the  Atonement  is  a  mystery,  and  that  these 
difficulties  about  the  Jewish  ritualism  are  certainly  some- 
what mysterious  also:  "Let  us,  then,"  he  argues,  "  neutralize 
them  by  each  other,  and  leave  the  question  as  indetermin- 
able." Certainly,  if  we  can  pronounce  the  improbabilities 
equal  on  both  sides.  But  can  \yq  ?  The  improbabilities 
of  the  Jewish  system,  considered  apart  from  its  fulfilment 
in  the  Christian  sacrifice,  are  improbabilities  of  which  we 
can  all  judge.  They  are  in  the  field  of  our  own  human  nature, 
which  (whether  we  think  it  or  not)  is  the  daily  study  of 
every  man  that  lives.  On  such  a  question  we  are  adequate 
and  authorized  judges.  When  we  call  such  things  im- 
probable, we  know  what  we  say.  But  the  great  Atone- 
ment,— who  shall  dare  to  say  that  he  knows  enough  of  the 
counsels  of  heaven,  the  requisitions  of  God,  and  His  rela- 
tion to  man, — to  pronounce  it  i'mjiro'bahlef  Who  is  he  that 
comes  among  us  in  the  high  character  of  confidential  secre- 
tary to  the  divine  administration,  that  he  can  venture  to 
affirm  that  God  requires  no  suffering  mediator  ?  Where 
is  the  man  or  angel  who  has  irresistibly  demonstrated  to 
the  creatures  of  earth  his  accurate  acquaintance  with  all 
the  moral  systems  of  all  the  spheres,  and  who,  enriched 
with  this  immensity  of  knowledge  (for  nothing  short  of 
this  will  suffice),  has  at  length  expressly  revealed  it  as  cer- 
tain, or  even  probable,  that  tlie  nature  of  God  cannot  require 
a  sacrifice  as  the  basis  of  redemption?  Give  us  the  evi- 
dence of  such  an  one,  and  we  will  consent  that  an  atone- 
ment is  "improbable."  But  until  such  testimony  be  ex- 
hibited, I  shall  be  content  to  "  search  the  Scriptures,"  and 
to  find  them,  in  characters  of  blood,  "testifying"  to  "the 
Lamb  of  God  that  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world." 
Until  such  a  "  friend  of  God"  and  partner  of  His  counsel 


SERM.  XIV.]  Old  Testame^it  Scriptures.  241 

be  fortlicoming,  I  shall  be  content  with  that  "friend  of 
God"  who,  in  covenant  and  sacrifice  of  blood,  "saw  the 
day  of  Christ,"  and  rejoiced  to  see  it.  Until  such  a  visitant 
of  heaven  is  among  ns,  I  shall  ask  but  the  testimony  of 
Him  who  hath  said,  that  "  no  man  hath  ascended  up  to 
heaven  but  He  that  came  down  from  heaven,  even  the  Son 
of  Man  which  is  in  heaven  ;"  and  who  in  the  might  and 
fulness  of  that  familiarity  with  all  the  recesses  of  the 
heavenly  counsels,  hath  Himself  declared  that  He  "  came  to 
give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many," — that  "  His  blood  was 
shed  for  many  for  the  remission  of  sins." 

And,  viewed  in  this  aspect,  there  are  few  considerations 
more  startling  or  impressive  than  our  Lord's  constant  ^;ar- 
ticipation  in  the  significant  rites  of  the  Jewish  religion, 
during  the  days  of  his  humiliation  in  the  flesh.  Of  how 
wonderful  a  sight  were  the  Jewish  bystanders  the  ancon- 
scious  witnesses,  when  they  beheld,  at  each  returning 
assembly,  Him  meekly  hearing  the  prophecies  in  whom  all 
prophecy  was  to  be  falfilled !  "  The  testimony  of  Jesus  is 
the  spirit  of  prophecy ;"  and  lo !  the  Inspirer  is  sitting  at 
the  feet  of  His  messengers  and  learning  the  lesson  He  taught 
them!  But  in  the  calm,  unmoved  aspect  of  the  Son  of  God, 
no  trace  can  be  discovered  of  the  mighty  interest  He  alone 
can  take  in  those  mysterious  anticipations  of  Himself.  One 
among  a  crowded  synagogue,  seldom  called  upon  to  bear 
an  office  or  utter  an  opinion,  rebuked,  it  may  be,  to  the 
lowest  place,  overlooked  as  a  poor  man  among  his  betters, 
and  deemed  altogether  disqualified,  by  narrowness  of  educa- 
tion or  capacity,  for  sounding  the  depths  of  the  page  which, 
but  for  Plim — at  once  inspirer  and  object — had  never  ex- 
isted !  "  This  people  that  know  not  the  law  are  cursed," 
and  the  humble  artisan  of  Nazareth  was  one  of  "this 
people  I"  But  pass  from  prophecy  to  the  more  vivid  lan- 
guage of  type,  and  contemplate  Him  as  He  comes,  in  meek 
obedience  to  the  law,  "fulfilling  all  righteousness,"  to  cele- 
brate or  to  witness  those  bloody  sacrifices  that  portrayed 
21 


242  Christ  sought  and  found  in  the        [SERM.  XIV. 

His  own  death,  of  blood !     Thrice  a  year  he  entered  Jeru- 
salem to  act,  more  or  less  directly,  the  story  of  His  coming 
sufferings.     If  He  were  present  (and  on  one  occasion  we 
find  Him  in  Jerusalem  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  just 
after  it)  at  the  great  Festival  of  Expiation,  how  profoundly 
must  He  have  entered  into  the  purport  of  all  that  solemn 
scene.     The  bleeding  sacrifice  at  the  door  of  the  tabernacle, 
the  guiltless  animal  dismissed  with  the  imputed  guilt  of 
Israel,  the  blood  borne  by  the  priest  into  the  holy  of  holies, 
— image  of  that  celestial  sanctuary  He  was  so  soon  to  enter 
with  a  similar  offering;  how  must  all  this  dumb  show  have 
addressed  the  Saviour's  soul, — a  soul  in  which  exquisite 
tenderness  of  affection  was  doubtless  united  with  intense 
capacities  of  suffering  ?     Or  consider  that  more  domestic 
sacrifice  in  which  the  Jewish  layman  was  more  directly 
concerned,  that  Passover  which  so  accurately  typified  the 
divine  oblation  of  Christ.     In  this  each  Israelite  was  his 
own  sacrificer ;  and  often  must  He  have  beheld  His  brethren 
slay  the  lamb  which  was  to  represent  that  better  "Lamb 
without  blemish  and  without  spot,"  "  slain  from  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world."     How  must  the  human  heart  of  Jesus 
have  shrunk,  in  such  an  hour,  from  the  terrible  picture  of 
His  sufferings  to  come!     And  when  the  bleeding  knife  was 
drawn  from  the  quivering  flesh,  and  the  blood  sprinkled  at 
the  altar-base,  with  what  feelings  did  the  Man  of  Sorrows 
return  to  share  in  the  feast  that  followed  ?     Oh !  how  much 
more  than  the  cross  was  borne  by  the  crucified  Redeemer ! 
Or  rather,  how  daily  and  hourly  was  the  cross  He  bore  I 

Abundantly,  then,  in  all  their  structure  and  bearing,  do 
the  Scriptures  and  their  Jewish  subject  attest  the  Atonement 
that  was  to  found  our  redemption ;  attest  it  by  virtue  of 
their  composition  and  character,  and  though  their  historical 
narration  were  nothing  beyond  an  ideal  allegory.  Bat 
this  witness  stretches  farther  still.  They  testify  not  only 
to  the  cause  of  life,  but  to  the  life  itself, — the  spiritual 
quickening,  present  and  eternal.     Here,  too,  I  seek  not  to 


SEEM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  Scriptures.  243 

detain  you  with  the  separate  manifestations  of  the  blessed 
future,  the  special  types  that  visibly  embodied  the  invisible 
gift  of  sanctification  to  come, — the  anointings,  the  washings, 
the  solemn  seclusion  of  the  entire  people  from  the  common 
family  of  nations.  I  observe  only  the  force  and  direction 
of  the  whole  current  of  the  scriptural  records  themselves, 
and  I  find  it  all  pressing  on,  and  gathering  as  it  advances, 
to  the  holiness  won  and  dispensed  by  Jesus. 

2.  It  is  not  an  easy,  and  it  is  in  some  sense  an  invidious, 
task,  to  attempt  a  distinction  between  the  charaderistic  holi- 
ness of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  Any  such  distinc- 
tion must,  of  course,  be  taken,  not  as  above  all  possible 
exception  strictly  and  literally  universal,  but  as  a  general 
contrast,  marking  the  genius  and  spirit  of  each.  And, 
understood  in  this  liberal  construction,  perhaps  it  might  be 
said  that  the  habitual  sanctity  of  the  Old  Testament  was  a 
life  to  God  united  with  a  life  to  the  world  also,  the  loyalty  of 
the  subject  to  his  prince,  which  does  not  interfere  with  a 
strong  development  of  other  tendencies  too ;  while  that  of 
the  Christian  institute  is  peculiarly  a  death  to  the  icorld,  in 
order  that  man  may  enter  upon  a  life,  intimate  and  undi- 
vided, with  God  alone.  How  vividly  this  is  represented 
in  the  initiatory  rite  of  the  Christian  life,  I  need  not  ob- 
serve. But  (to  avoid  all  misconceptions  upon  a  matter  of 
such  moment)  I  will  digress  to  say,  that  this  great  charac- 
teristic of  the  covenant  of  the  Spirit  docs  not  impair  the 
obligation  or  the  energy  of  a  single  earthly  duty, — of  even 
a  single  legitimate  affection ;  it  simply  destroys  for  ever  the 
independent  sovereignty  of  those  principles,  superadds  an 
affection  of  such  strength  as  to  overcome  them  when  they 
interfere,  or  to  pervade  them  when  they  harmonize  with  it ; 
subdues  them  to  itself  or  subdues  them  altogether,  and  (it 
may  be  granted)  disposes  the  mind  to  avoid  as  much  as 
possible  multiplying  them,  without  discernible  spiritual 
advantage.  The  Christian's  "  death  to  the  world"  amounts 
to  simply  this, — that  no  principle  not  traceable  to  heaven 


244  Christ  sought  and  found  in  the       [SERM,  xiv. 

shall  be,  for  even  an  instant,  recognized  as  the  sovereign 
director  of  the  soul;  not  merely  that  God  shall  ordinarily 
hold  the  first  place  in  his  deliberate  calculations  of  oppos- 
ing courses  of  conduct  (for  this  the  pious  of  all  ages  have 
admitted),  but  that  everything  else, — habits,  affections,  situa- 
tions, events, — shall  be  connected  with  Ilim,  imbued  and 
pervaded  with  His  light,  and,  as  it  were,  seen  and  known  by 
it  alone.  This  total  separation  of  every  earthly  bond,  con- 
sidered as  earthly^  and  assumption  of  a  new  life  at  the  hand 
of  God,  so  that  man,  while  on  earth,  practically  lives  in 
heaven,  was  not  within  the  scheme  of  the  Old  Testament 
revelation,  however  it  may  appear  by  glimpses  in  the  in- 
spired writers  themselves.  If  they  possessed  it,  it  was  not 
for  the  public.  Nor,  indeed,  with  God  eminently  represented 
as  a  national  God,  and,  instead  of  the  ample  expanse  of 
heaven  and  of  eternity,  with  this  earth  regarded  as  the 
great  scene  of  His  rewarding  dispensations,  is  it  easy  to  see 
how  these  views  of  unworldly  purity  could  possibly  have 
been  proposed.  But  what  is  mainly  to  be  considered  at 
present  is,  that,  though  not  directly  proposed,  they  seem 
evermore  to  be  seen  in  dim  and  distant  vision,  in  vision 
that  grows  nearer  and  brighter  constantly  as  the  day  of 
Christ  approaches.  David  himself,  the  great  type  of  Israel- 
itish  holiness,  and  whose  language  in  our, — perhaps  often 
in  his  own, — spiritual  applications,  embraces  all  the  pro- 
foundest  feelings  and  hopes  of  the  Christian, — David  per- 
petually rises  above  his  state,  beseeches  a  power  which  he 
can  conceive  but  cannot  compass,  and  seems  struggling 
to  get  beyond  his  place  in  the  progressive  order  of  revela- 
tion. "  Open  thou  mine  eyes,  that  I  may  behold  wonders 
....I  will  run  the  way  of  thy  commandments  ichen  thou  shalt 
enlarge  my  heart. ...I  have  longed  after  thy  precepts: 
quicken  me  in  thy  righteousness.  Let  thy  tender  mercies 
come  unto  me,  that  I  may  live.  My  soul  fainteth  for  thy 
salvation.  Thy  commandment  is  exceeding  broad.  Let  my 
cry  come  before  thee,  O  Lord:  give  me  understanding!" 


SERM.  XIV.]  Old  Testament  Scnptures.  245 

And  as  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  after  He  had  republished  the 
Law  as  His  own,  was  to  be  the  necessary  condition,  and  so 
prior  to  His  power,  of  dispensing  the  Spirit^ — so  do  we  ob- 
serve the  very  same  order  in  the  preparatory  disposition  of 
the  Old  Testament.  There,  too,  the  law  is  first  solemnly 
enacted  at  Sinai,  the  complicated  observances  of  sacrifice 
are  then  ordained,  and  the  farther  work  of  sanctification 
comes  out  in  gradual  prominence  of  prediction,  and  at 
length  attains  its  highest  splendor  of  promise  in  the  pages 
of  the  Prophets.  You  will  at  once  perceive,  how  this  ob- 
vious analogy  between  the  two  Testaments  silences  the  ob- 
jection of  Socinians  and  Deists,  against  the  additions  to  the 
Gospel,  which  they  profess  to  discover  in  the  apostolic  Epis- 
tles. And  in  the  hallowed  raptures  of  Isaiah  and  his  pro- 
phetic brethren,  along  with  the  promise  of  sanctification 
under  the  second  covenant,  it  is  impossible  not  to  observe, 
in  dim  outline,  those  traits  accompanying  it,  which  accom- 
pany the  possession  of  the  gift  in  the  preaching  and  the 
Epistles  of  Peter,  and  Paul,  and  John.  The  precepts  of  the 
Law  are  in  the  Law  delivered  with  sternness  and  brevity, 
its  penalties  denounced  with  unmitigated  severity ;  in  the 
Prophets,  a  code  substantially  the  same  is  presented,  by 
transitions  almost  insensible,  in  colors  softer,  and  richer, 
and  more  attractive.  Hues  from  some  distant  glory,  itself 
unrevealed,  have  fallen  upon  those  gioomy  features,  and 
illumined  them  into  its  own  likeness.  Judaism  in  Moses 
and  Isaiah  is  still,  indeed,  Judaism,  but  it  is  like  the  one 
landscape  seen  in  different  lights,  and  we  can  scarcely 
recognize  it  for  the  same !  "  The  law  of  the  Spirit  of  life'' 
has  already  begun  to  supplant  the  "  law  of  sin  and  death." 
Whether  the  misfortunes  of  the  people,  knowing,  as  we  do, 
how  largely  affliction  is  employed  as  an  instrument  in  the 
hand  of  God,  might  have  been  concerned  in  fitting  them  to 
receive  this  higher  tone  of  spiritual  promise,  it  is  not  easy 
to  say  with  certainty ;  but  it  is  remarkable  that  it  is  from 
the  depths  of  captivity,  in  the  hour  of  bitterest  bondage, 

21* 


246  CJirist  soiirjld  and  found  in  the       [SERM.  XIV. 

that  Jeremiah  and  Ezekiel  have  reached  the  culminating 
point  of  the  promise  of  holiness  to  come, — that  great  an- 
nouncement of  the  covenant,  the  peculiar  charter  of  our 
religion, — which  you  will  find  cited  in  that  character  by  St. 
Paul  in  the  eighth  chapter  of  his  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews. 
"  Behold,  the  days  come  that  I  will  make  a  new  covenant 
with  the  house  of  Judah;  not  according  to  the  covenant 
that  I  made  with  their  fathers :  for  this  is  the  covenant  that 
I  will  make.  I  will  put  my  laws  into  their  mind,  and  write 
them  in  their  hearts;  and  I  will  be  to  them  a  God,  and 
they  shall  be  to  me  a  people." 

If  these  anticipations  of  spiritual  vitality,  of  life  from  the 
death  of  sin,  be  thus  the  constant  character  of  the  Old  Tes- 
tament (itself  unpossessed  of  the  gift),  we  may  repeat  that  in 
this  sense  also  was  the  Lord  of  glor}?-  justified,  when  He 
appealed  to  those  Scriptures  in  the  mass,  for  their  testimony 
to  Him  as  the  Author  and  Giver  of  life. 

3.  It  remains  that  we  speak  of  the  last  subject  of  attesta- 
tion, the  testimony  of  the  Scriptures  to  Christ,  as  the  source 
of  an  immortality  of  glory  to  Sis  followers.  Few  minutes 
are  left  us  for  this:  but  it  need  not  detain  us  lons^.  It 
seems,  in  relation  to  our  subject,  the  topic  most  prominent 
of  all ;  but,  in  truth,  it  is,  in  a  great  measure,  contained 'm.  the 
former.  Christ's  atonement,  Christ's  gift  of  the  Spirit, 
Christ's  gift  of  glory, follow  in  necessary  internal  connection ; 
and  wherever  the  two  former  are  proclaimed,  the  last  is  sub- 
stantially involved.  But,  according  to  the  universal  law  of 
progressive  development,  the  Old  Testament  predictions 
become  less  and  less  vivid  as  we  advance  through  the 
three:  the  earliest,  the  atonement,  is  presignified  the  most 
distinctly  of  all ;  the  sanctification  by  the  Spirit,  less  and 
more  lately ;  the  final  glorification  faintly,  and  more  often 
by  implication  than  assertion.  Nor  indeed  could  either 
the  present  or  the  eternal  life  of  the  Spirit  have  been  ade- 
quately manifested  in  type  or  prophecy  without  the  other  ; 
and  it  is  remarkable  that  the  prediction  of  the  spiritual 


SERM.  XIV.]  <Jld  Testament  Scrrptures.  247 

covenant,  wliicli  T  have  just  cited,  declares  that  Jehovah 
will  become  "a  GoeV  to  his  sanctified  people;  a  phrase 
whose  import  as  extending  to  the  future  world,  Christ  Him- 
self, on  one  illustrious  occasion,  interpreted.  The  con- 
nection of  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost  with  immortal  glory 
is  not  arbitrary  or  external,  but  inward  and  essential. 
Many  have  insinuated  that  to  insist  on  the  heavenly  recom- 
pense is  to  corrupt  the  purity  of  the  religious  motives. 
Deeper  reflection  would  have  taught  them  that,  without  the 
heavenly  future,  it  would  be  impossible  to  preach  our  reli- 
gion at  all.  Men  cannot  possess  the  elevation  of  the  Chris- 
tian affections  on  a  temporal  scheme,  and  without  constant 
reference  to  a  larger  world  as  their  own.  Men  cannot 
breathe  the  breath  of  heaven  without  the  free  amplitude 
of  heaven  around  them.  You  cannot  proclaim  a  religion 
built  on  mystical  union  with  God,  unless  you  first  lift  men 
into  God's  world, — into  a  world,  therefore,  of  incorruption, 
of  eternity.  Even  could  we  exclude  the  notion  of  reward 
altogether,  our  religion  could  not  live  and  grow  without 
heaven  and  immortality  as  its  element.  And  (without 
arguing  that,  on  any  other  supposition,  their  fortitude  must 
have  exceeded  that  of  our  Christian  martyrs)  I  cannot 
doubt,  that  though,  perhaps,  forbidden  by  the  Spirit  to 
declare  their  convictions,  except  in  glimpses  and  enigmas, 
the  holy  men  of  old  must  have  lived  on  such  a  belief;  that 
"  the  fixthers  looked  not  for  transitory  promises ;"  that  some 
"  sought  the  heavenly"  country  in  the  strength  of  a  general 
dependence  on  the  tried  faithfulness  of  God ;  others,  favored 
with  visions,  more  or  less  express,  of  '■^  His  day,"  who  now 
appealed  in  turn  from  their  unbelieving  descendants  to 
them  and  their  Scriptures  for  the  promise  of  "  eternal  life," 
as  being  "  they  which  testified  of  Him."  As  the  hour  drew 
nearer,  we  know  from  other  sources  that  the  conviction 
became  more  decided ;  some  of  the  apocryphal  books  teem 
with  notices  of  a  future  state.  National  misfortune  drove 
the  Jews  from  the  present  to  a  coming  world ;  and  before 


2i8  Christ  sought  cmdfound^  etc.  [sErm.  xiv. 

tlie  advent  of  Him  who  was  destined  to  *'  bring  tliem"  to 
perfect  "light,"  "life  and  immortality"  had  already  feebly 
dawned  upon  the  beliefs  or  the  hopes  of  Israel.  But  in 
Him  alone  was  that  consummated,  which  Israel  till  then 
could  only  conjecture.  They  might  "search  the  Scrip- 
tures" in  pursuit  of  "  eternal  life,"  but  in  Him  alone  had 
those  Scriptures  centered  it;  in  Him  every  scattered  ray 
that  brightened  their  immortal  prospects  converged  into 
one  resplendent  focus ;  His  marvellous  existence  alone  sat- 
isfied, in  one  comprehensive  solution,  all  their  difficulties, 
accomplished  all  their  promises,  substantiated  all  their 
hopes.  He  was  rejected,  but  on  that  rejection  was  built 
the  world's  acceptance,  the  atonement,  the  illumination,  the 
immortality.  To  it  you  owe  that,  redeemed  from  dumb 
idols,  you  can  this  day  expatiate  at  "will  through  the  old 
Jewish  inheritance,  once  so  jealously  guarded  ;  that  you  can 
"  search  the  Scriptures,"  and,  discerning  on  every  page  the 
hidden  name  of  Jesus,  can  hear  them  whisper  of  "  eternal 
life,"  but  only  as  they  speak  of  Him,  who  is  the  sole  dis- 
penser of  the  priceless  wealth  of  immortality. 


SERMON  XV. 

HUMAN  AFFECTIONS  RAISED,  NOT  DESTROYED,  BY  THE 
GOSPEL. 

Charge  them  that  are  rich  in  this  world,  that  they  be  not  high-minded,  nor 
trust  in  uncertain  riches,  but  in  the  living  God,  who  giveth  us  richly  all 
things  to  enjoy. — 1  Timothy  iv.  17. 

The  business  of  the  pulpit,  my  brethren,  is  to  take  man 
as  it  finds  him,  though  not  to  leave  him  as  it  finds  him. 
Its  position  places  it  in  the  midst  of  a  lost  and  degraded 
world,  and  it  must  regard  that  world  as  such  without  quali- 
fication or  compromise,  or  else  miss  of  its  proper  destina- 
tion. Christianity  itself,  as  recognized  in  Christian  lands, 
— what  is  it  but  (as  it  were)  a  vast  medical  establishment 
for  diseased  minds  ?  And  the  functions  of  the  pulpit, — 
what  are  they  but  the  solemn  and  public  tender  of  divinely 
authorized  remedies  to  the  assembled  patients  in  each  ward 
of  that  mighty  hospital,  the  sin-afflicted  world  ?  The  phy- 
sicians may  vary  in  skill  or  activity, — the  sufferers  in  the 
virulence  of  the  evil ;  but  the  relation  between  them  re- 
mains substantially  unchanged.  Nor  does  it  affect  the 
truth  of  the  representation  that,  in  a  vast  majority  of  in- 
stances, the  sick  are  unsuspicious  of  their  sickness ;  any 
more  than  the  confidence  of  the  insane  would  be  accepted 
as  evidence  of  sanity.  The  ignorance  is  a  'part  of  the  dis- 
ease, and  the  first  step  to  health  is  to  know  how  far  we  are 
from  it.  The  pulpit,  then,  I  repeat,  must  take  man  exactly 
as  it  finds  him,  with  all  his  muUitudc  of  passions  and  pre- 


250  Human  Affections  raised^  [seem.  XV. 

judices  around  liim ;  with  his  discontented,  yet  perversely 
obstinate  devotion  to  this  world,  and  his  feeble  aspirations 
after  a  better.  It  must  take  the  whole  mass  as  it  moves  in 
the  crowded  walks  of  common  life,  and  not  any  imaginary 
or  fictitious  humanity ; — it  must  take  it,  that,  purifying, 
directing,  strengthening  these  weak  elements,  it  may,  in  the 
energy  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  mightily  accompanying  the 
Word  He  once  gave,  mould  them  into  a  better  harmony, 
and,  of  these  rude  materials  of  intellect  and  affection,  frame 
a  "  Temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost"  for  time  and  for  eternity ! 

"  Of  these  materials,"  T  say,  for  here  is  the  point.  The 
Apostle  sets  before  us,  in  the  text,  two  applications  of  the 
sanrie  human  affection.  He  bids  us  not  to  "trust  in  uncertain 
riches,"  but  to  trust  "  in  the  living  God."  He  assumes  that 
there  is  in  the  heart  of  man  the  tendency  to  dependence 
upon  something  beyond  itself,  yet  intimately  connected 
with  itself;  and,  above  all  (and  as  the  chiefest  instance  of 
the  principle),  upon  that  wealth,  which  is  the  pledge  and 
representative  of  all  earthly  enjoyment,  and  which  is  thus 
the  great  mediator  between  the  heart  and  the  world  that 
attracts  it.  He  assumes  that  this  trusting  impulse  exists, 
and  he  would  not  destroy  hut  reform  it.  He  would  exhibit 
the  true  and  eternal  object  for  a  tendency  in  itself  inde- 
structible ;  and  would  intimate  that  there  is  prepared  for 
the  just  desires  of  the  soul  a  sphere  of  being,  adequate  to 
these  desires,  and  from  which  the  present  detains  us,  only 
as  the  counterfeit  and  mockery  of  it !  On  the  one  hand, 
"  uncertain  riches f^  on  the  other  the  parallel  announcement, 
that  "  God  giveth  us  richhj  all  things  to  enjoy."  And  thus 
the  Spirit,  that  spoke  in  the  exhortation  of  Paul,  instructs 
in  the  great  truth,  that  the  faculties  of  men  are  themselves 
a  mechanism  for  eternity ;  that  it  is  not  they^ — it  is  not 
Love,  and  Eeliance,  and  Hope,  and  Desire, — but  their 
habitual  objects,  that  man  must  toil  to  change ;  that  if  your 
worldliness  assume  (as  in  the  text)  the  form  of  unbounded 
trusty  to  be  a  disciple  of  the  mighty  Master,  you  must  not 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  hy  the  Gospel.  '       251 

cease  to  trust,  but,  with  a  tliousandfolcl  force,  concentrate 
all  the  energies  of  your  dependence  upon  "the  living  God;" 
in  short,  that  you  must  be  the  man  you  were,  but  not 
where  and  as  you  were, — the  same  faculties,  but  not  the 
same  uses ;  even  as  the  breathing  organs  of  a  human  body 
are  still  substantially  the  same,  when  at  one  hour  inhaling 
pestilence  and  ruin,  at  another  drawing  the  pure  and  blessed 
air  of  morning  in  the  open  landscape,  and  with  all  the 
happy  consciousness  of  life,  and  health,  and  vigor. 

The  text,  then,  invites  us  to  regard  the  general  question 
of  the  religious  affections  in  this  aspect,  and  the  more  im- 
peratively, that  in  our  ordinary  discussions  of  the  spiritual 
life,  it  seems  to  be  constantly  misconceived  or  exaggerated. 
The  text  exemplifies  one  instance  which,  in  its  general 
application,  pervades  the  whole  intercourse  of  God  and 
man, — the  principle,  namely,  of  the  preservation  in  the 
renewed  nature  of  the  whole  heart  of  man,  with  all  its  mul- 
titude of  feelings  and  affections,  the  only  element  absolutely 
new  being  the  higher  and  holier  direction  which  is  im- 
pressed on  them  by  the  energy  of  the  Spirit  of  the  living 
God.  On  this  important  matter,  then,  I  shall  first  endeavor 
briefly  to  engage  your  attention,  and  I  shall  then  attempt 
to  illustrate  the  melancholy  extent  of  the  actual  perversion 
of  our  nature,  by  shoAving  how,  even  in  their  wanderings, 
these  affections  betray  the  higher  purpose  for  which  they 
were  primarily  intended,  and  how, — more  especially  in  the 
instance  noted  in  the  text,  the  "trust  in  riches^^^ — man  still 
unconsciously  invests  with  the  very  attributes  of  perfect 
felicity,  of  heaven,  and  of  God,  the  earthly  idol  to  which  he 
sacrifices  both  I 

There  are  those,  then,  who  speak  with  solemn  and  pro- 
phetic truth  of  the  change  which  comes  over  the  aspect  of 
the  human  soul,  when,  for  the  first  time  "  awaking  to 
righteousness,"  it  is  introduced  (while  yet  in  the  world  of 
time)  into  the  eternal  world,  and  becomes  cognizant  of  the 
glories,  till  then  unseen,  that  surround  "  the  throne  of  God 


252  Human  Affections  raised^  [seem.  XV. 

and  of  the  Lamb."  Tliey  tell  us,  and  how  truly  do  they 
tell  us ! — that  such  a  change  as  this  in  importance  stands 
alone  in  human  life ;  they  say,  or  might  say,  that  all  the 
variations  of  fortune,  in  her  wildest  caprices,  lifting  peasants 
to  a  throne,  and  depressing  kings  to  a  dungeon,  are  idle  as 
the  chansreful  shadowins^s  of  an  evening^  cloud,  when  com- 
pared  "with  that  solitary  hour,  when  lie  who  "  stands  at  the 
door  and  knocks"  is  first  consciously  admitted  by  the  lov- 
ing heart  of  a  repentant  believer ;  that  the  one  class  of 
changes  are  those  of  a  world  itself  the  very  type  of  change; 
the  other  the  revolution  of  the  destinies  of  an  eternity, 
witnessed  by  all  enraptured  heaven,  and  of  which  ten 
thousand  angels  are  the  historians.  This  surely  is  not  to 
exaggerate,  it  is  simply  to  describe,  that  transcendent 
event  in  the  spiritual  world, — the  conscious  re-creation  of 
a  human  soul  after  the  image  of  the  God  who  formed  it. 

But  when,  from  the  dignity  and  the  circumstances  of  the 
change,  men  pass  to  define  its  nature^  there  is  often,  it 
seems  to  me,  much  inaccuracy  and  some  imprudence  in 
their  statements.  We  find  it  sometimes  described  as  if  no 
one  element  of  human  nature  were  to  remain  in  the  rege- 
nerate spirit.  The  declaration  that  a  new  heart  is  bestowed 
is  taken  in  almost  the  fulness  of  a  literal  acceptation.  '  All ' 
the  old  machinery  of  humanity  is  discarded  ;  the  "  works" 
are  (as  it  were)  taken  out  of  the  case  cf  the  instrument,  and 
a  totally  new  organization  of  passions  and  affections  pro- 
vided. The  spiritual  renewal  is  thus  falsely,  I  think,  and 
dangerously,  made  to  consist,  not  in  "  setting"  ow  emanci- 
pated "  affection  upon  things  above," — not  in  the  privilege  of 
having  ^^the  xvliole  hody^  and  soul,  and  spirit  preserved  blame- 
less until  the  coming  of  Christ," — but  in  the  acquisition  of 
some  indescribable  affections  (if  such  they  may  be  called), 
which,  though  they  be  named  love  and  desire,  are  no 
longer  human  love  and  human  desire,  but  differing  almost 
as  much,  it  would  seem,  from  these  affections  as  they  are 
in  our  hearts,  as  love  and  hate  differ  from  each  other  ! 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  hy  the  Gospel.  253 

Hence  that  mystic  aud  dangerous  mode  of  representation 
too  common  among  a  large  class  of  teachers,  winch  would 
exalt  the  "  love  to  God"  (for  example)  beyond  all  human 
conception,  not  merely  in  the  dignity  of  its  object  (in  which, 
I  need  not  say,  no  language  could  overstate  it),  but  even  in 
the  very  nature  of  the  feeling  ;  as  if  the  love  of  a  devoted 
friend  was  one  thing  and  intelligible,  but  the  love  to  God 
quite  another  affection,  and  all  but  incomprehensible !  Or, 
again,  it  is  the  same  injudicious  and  unwarrantable  exag- 
geration, which  represents  that  state  of  the  soul  in  regard 
to  Christ  Jesus,  which  forms  the  inward  human  condition 
of  our  justification,  and  the  fundamental  element  of  the 
spiritual  life,  the  state  of  faith^  as  something  in  its  own 
nature  totally  distinct  from  faith  as  exercised  upon  any 
other  object, — as  consisting  in  some  mysterious  "appre- 
hension," for  which  it  would  seem  a  new  faculty  must  be 
miraculously  provided,  as  assuredly  no  one  of  the  ordinary 
faculties  of  an  average  human  mind  at  all  answers  to  its 
description,  or  is  competent  to  its  supposed  functions.  The 
error  of  all  such  cases  is  the  same, — the  notion  that  in  the 
work  of  renewal  new  faculties  are  given  us,  instead  of  a 
new  direction  to  the  old  ones ;  the  notion  that  God  anni- 
hilates human  nature  when  He  only  perfects  it,  and  that 
the  proper  office  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  to  evacuate  our 
former  being,  instead  of  taking  it  as  the  basis  of  His 
mighty  work, — to  destroy  the  channels  themselves,  instead 
of  cleansing  their  polluted  streams,  and  then  replenishing 
them  forever  with  the  waters  of  Paradise  ! 

This  question,  my  brethren,  of  the  true  nature  and  extent 
of  the  graces  of  the  Spirit,  is,  be  assured,  no  matter  of  mere 
speculation;  there  are  many  reasons  why  it  is  of  direct  and 
practical  importance.  Over  and  above  the  general  advan- 
tage of  distinctness  and  simplicity  in  all  our  apprehensions 
of  the  work  of  God  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  the  gross 
injury  done  to  religion  by  dissociating  it  from  the  plain 
and  familiar  laws  of  our  nature,  as  if,  because  "  the  ground 

9,9 


254  Human  Affections  raised^  [SERM.  XV. 

wliereon  thou  standest  is  Ao??/,"  it  therefore  ceases  to  be  a 
part  of  our  native  earth; — beyond  this,  I  say,  there  is  in  the 
immediate  practical  bearing  of  the  case,  much  that  invests 
with  especial  peril  all  error  and  enthusiasm  concerning  it. 
As  long  as  men  conceived  that  the  religious  affections  are 
in  their  essence  wholly  different  from  every  other  affection, 
they  will  inevitably  conclude  that  the  training  and  disci- 
j)li7ie  for  them  must  be  itself  equally  different.  The  path  of 
holiness  becomes  at  once  clouded  with  obscurity,  and  the 
rules,  which  are  of  universal  application  in  the  formation 
of  daily  character,  become  (so  contrarily  to  the  Scripture 
teaching)  totally  inapplicable  to  the  regulation  of  progres- 
sive godliness.  But  when  it  is  clearly  felt  that  man,  born 
for  God,  has  within  him  the  very  faculties  that  God,  operat- 
ing by  His  eternal  Spirit,  would  direct  to  Himself;  that 
there  are,  in  the  texture  and  substance  of  our  nature,  the 
rudiments  of  eternal  life,  though  distorted  and  degraded ; 
that  we  are  to  "love,  not  the  world,  nor  the  things  of  the 
world,"  but  with  the  very  same  affection  to  "love  the  Lord 
our  God,"  that  we  are  (as  in  the  text)  not  to  "  trust  in  un- 
certain riches,"  but  with  the  very  same  fulness  of  devoted 
reliance,  as  again  in  the  text,  to  "  trust  in  the  living  God;" 
— then  the  simplicity  of  the  conception  gives  simplicity  to 
all  its  consequences ;  our  way  is  open  and  unambiguous ; 
and  we  see  at  once  that,  if  we  would  be  the  servants  of  a 
heavenly  Master,  we  must  apply  and  sanctify  to  His  blessed 
service  the  very  maxims,  which  years  of  melancholy  expe- 
rience have  taught  us  are  all-powerful  in  binding  our 
slavish  affections  to  the  bondage  of  the  world  !  We  van- 
quish Satan  with  his  own  weapons,  and  all  our  "  knowledge 
of  the  world"  will  only  instruct  us  how  to  soar  above  it ! 
The  wretchedness  of  the  past  itself  becomes  our  teacher  in 
the  art  of  happiness ;  for  as  long  as  the  faculties  and  feelings 
of  our  nature  remain  (and  they  must  in  themselves  remain) 
the  same,  there  is  not  one  rule  of  ordinary  experience  more 
capable  of  fortifying  us  in  ruin  than,  properly  applied,  it 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  hy  the  Gospel.  255 

may  tend  to  make  us  "  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints 
in  light!" 

So  far  for  the  general  principle  involved  in  the  particular 
exhortation  of  the  Apostle,  the  principle  that  the  same 
affections  which  cling  to  the  lowly  earth  are  those  which 
must  struggle,  under  celestial  guidance,  to  find  their  rest  in 
God.  "Trust  not  in  riches,  but  [trust]  in  the  living  God!" 
Blessed  invitation!  How  it  exalts,  even  while  it  reproves, 
our  fettered  nature !  How,  from  the  very  depth  of  our  in- 
fatuation, it  unfolds  its  glorious  contrast, — the  bright  story 
of  our  true,  though  forgotten  destinies, — the  title-deed  and 
charter  of  our  neglected  immortality!  Trust,  yes,  trust 
with  a  devotedness  such  as  the  wildest  frenzy  of  avarice 
has  never  exhibited  !  Trust,  and  fear  not !  It  is  among 
the  noblest  energies  of  your  being, — it  was  never  given  in 
vain.  Trust,  but  "trust  in  the  living  God !"  Preserve  un- 
broken every  element  of  your  affections ;  they  are  all  alike 
the  property  of  heaven.  Be  ambitious,  but  ambitious  of 
the  eternal  heritage.  Let  avarice  be  yours,  but  avarice  of 
celestial  treasures.  Covet  esteem,  but  esteem  in  the  mind 
of  God  and  the  circles  of  the  blessed.  Labor  after  know- 
ledge, but  let  it  be  "  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ !"  Yearn  after  sympathy, 
but  seek  it  where  alone  it  is  unfailing, — in  Him  whose 
essence  from  eternity  is  love,  and  who  became  man  that 
He  might  humanize  that  awfulness  of  celestial  love  to  the 
tenderness  of  a  brother's.  The  father  of  our  race  had  all 
these  affections  when  alone  with  God  in  paradise ;  objects 
to  meet  and  satisfy  them  He  who  gave  them  would  never 
have  failed  to  supply  in  a  world  of  innocence.  Be  it  ours 
to  find  in  the  new  world  unveiled  in  the  Gospel  the  true 
materials  of  these  holy  desires,  and  so  to  train  them  while 
on  earth  for  the  society  of  heaven. 

I  have  but  this  moment  glanced  at  a  topic  which  might 
well  demand  deeper  and  fuller  illustration.  I  mean  the 
change  which  the  fact  of  the  Incarnation  of  God  must 


256  Human  Affections  raised^  [serm.  XV. 

rightfullj  make  in  all  that  concerns  the  laws  and  regulation 
of  the  human  affections.  For,  after  all,  these  affections  do, 
doubtless,  strive,  in  the  first  instance,  towards  human  ob- 
jects ;  human  themselves,  they  naturally  cling  to  the  human 
outside  and  beyond  them.  Ever  since  God  became  incar- 
nate, this  tendency  precludes  not  their  direct  passage  to 
heaven;  nay,  it  quickens  and  guides  it.  Hence  we  can 
perceive  one  of  the  reasons  why  the  practical  morality  of 
the  Jewish  period  w^as,  in  many  things,  especially  in  the 
deeper  spiritual  government  of  the  heart  and  thoughts, 
tolerated  at  a  lower  point  than  is  permitted  in  the  Church 
of  Christ.  The  affections  that  tend  to  God,  the  "  theopa- 
thetic"  affections  (to  use  a  phrase  of  Hartley's),  were  not 
yet  provided  with  their  object  in  all  its  human  fulness  and 
attractiveness.  It  would  have  been  little  short  of  miracle, 
that  even  the  most  pious  should  maintain  the  state  of  per- 
petual contemplative  affection  towards  the  awful  essence  of 
the  unmingled  God.  But  when  that  God  became  man  this 
difficulty  was  removed.  The  direct  pathway  to  heaven 
was  opened  to  the  human  heart.  Man,  seeking  his  own 
image,  finds  it  tJiere^  himself  in  all  but  sin ;  he  is  "  drawn  by 
the  cords  of  a  man,"  and  to  a  man ;  the  second  table  of  the 
Law  (as  St  John  has  hinted,  1  John  iv.  20)  leads  to  the 
first ;  and,  in  a  manner,  the  love  of  man  is  itself  but  sub- 
limed and  purified,  when  it  passes  into  the  love  of  that  God 
who,  though  God,  is  man  also.  In  this  view  we  see  how 
just  are  the  higher  requirements  of  the  Christian  rule  of 
perfection ;  how,  when  it  presents  a  mightier  source  of 
attraction  in  heaven,  and  one  so  exquisitely  qualified  to 
win  to  it  our  whole  actual  nature,  it  fairly  demands  that 
our  affections  shall,  with  a  new  and  corresponding  energy, 
"  seek  those  things  which  are  above,  where  Christ  sitteth 
at  the  right  hand  of  God." 

From  these  general  considerations, — which,  I  trust,  have 
not  been  without  their  advantage  in  directing  the  views  of 
those,  at  least,  among  you,  who  have  learned  to  sanctify 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroT/cdj  hy  the  Gospel.  257 

tlieir  understandings^  as  well  as  tlieir  affections,  to  the  ser- 
vice of  God,  by  reflecting  on  the  work  of  divine  grace  in  the 
heart  of  man, — let  us  for  a  while  descend  to  a  closer  con- 
templation of  the  Apostle's  charge  to  his  convert.  And 
the  more  you  regard  the  passage,  the  more  will  you  per- 
ceive, that  such  views  as  those  I  have  sketched  were,  in 
substance,  the  views  which  occupied  the  inspired  teacher. 
His  whole  object  is  manifestly  to  contrast  the  two  rivals 
for  the  human  heart,  the  worlds  visible  and  invisible ;  and 
hence  it  is  that  the  text  before  us  is  the  natural  sequel  to 
the  preceding  verse,  where  the  glory  of  the  eternal  God  is 
unveiled  in  all  its  majesty  as  the  object  which  is  to  fix  the 
affections  of  man.  There  is,  proclaims  St  Paul  (ver.  15),  a 
"blessed  and  only  Potentate,"  who  is  hereafter  to  deter- 
mine, "  in  his  own  time"  (as  it  is  emphatically  called),  the 
appearing  of  Christ  Jesus  in  glory.  This  Being  demands, 
as  His  inalienable  right,  all  the  energies  of  all  the  affec- 
tions ;  for  no  inferior  claimant  can  interfere  with  Him,  who 
is  "  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords."  This  Being  is 
above  change  in  the  serenity  of  His  own  incommunicable 
attribute  of  self-existence,  for  He  "only"  (ver.  16)  "hath 
immortality."  This  Being  is,  in  His  pure  Deity,  beyond 
human  access,  for  He  "  dwelleth  in  the  light  which  no  man 
can  approach  unto ;"  yea,  except  as  visible  in  the  face  of 
Christ  Jesus,  He  is  removed  from  all  human  perception, 
for  Him  "  no  man  hath  seen  nor  can  see."  But,  though 
thus  mysterious  in  His  nature  and  properties,  this  great 
Being  exists,  is  around  us,  within  us,  sustains  and  upholds 
us ;  has,,  by  the  adoption  of  our  nature,  descended  to  meet 
us ;  has  shed  His  own  light  upon  our  dust,  and  consecrated 
our  very  weaknesses  by  for  a  time  assuming  them ;  and 
therefore  it  is  that,  with  St  Paul,  we  likewise  echo  the  note 
of  praise,  "  to  Him  be  honor  and  power  everlasting !" 

Then  comes  the  exhortation.  Seeing  that  such  a  privi- 
lege as  this  is  ours  (ver.  17),  "charge  them  that  are  rich  in 
this  world,"  that  they  interpose  not  a  veil  between  them- 

22"^" 


258  Human  Affections  raised^  [SERM.  XV. 

selves  and  tins  Father  of  tlieir  spirits,  or  suffer  the  clouds 
and  vapors  of  earth  to  sully  or  eclipse  the  beams  of  this 
eternal  sun.  "  Charge  them,  that  they  be  not  high-minded, 
nor  trust  in  imcertain  riches,  but  in  the  living  God,  who 
giveth  us  richly  all  things  to  enjoy  1" 

I  mean  not,  however,  to  follow  out  the  purport  of  all 
these  pregnant  words ;  I  must,  at  the  same  time,  for  dis- 
tinctness, ask  you,  in  passing,  to  observe  the  subject  of  the 
charge,  "  them  that  are  rich  in  this  world  ;"  the  natural  con- 
sequences imputed,  self-exaltation, — "  that  they  be  not  high- 
minded  ;"  and,  as  its  cause,  a  grovelling  confidence  in  (as 
the  more  emphatic  original  has  it)  "the  uncertainty  of 
wealth :"  and  then  the  contrasts  uplifted  to  every  member 
of  the  statement ;  self-trust  opposed  to  trust  in  God  ;  perish- 
ableness  to  the  "  Uvinf^  and  eternal  God ;  and  that  depen- 
dence on  earthly  resources  which  produces  the  wretched 
and  contradictory  self-confidence  of  the  worldling,  to  the 
blessed  dependence  of  the  believer  on  those  spiritual  sup- 
plies which  exceed  them  alike  in  extent,  in  liberality,  and 
in  consolation  (for  He  "  giveth  us  all  things  richly  to  enpif\ 
and  the  constant  experience  of  which  fortifies  the  trust  in 
God,  or,  if  it  ever  excite  any  form  of  "  self-confidence^^  can 
only  excite  it  as  a  reflection  of  that  confidence  in  God^  by  ' 
which  the  disciple,  identifying  himself  with  his  Master, 
feels,  that  the  power  of  heaven  pledged  for  him  becomes, 
as  it  were,  his  own,  and  that  all  the  choicest  graces  of 
heaven  are  made  over  to  him  as,  in  a  manner,  his  celestial 
property,  a  divine  freehold  held  under  God,  but  permitted 
still  to  be  held  as  his  own  ! 

Such  is  the  analysis  of  the  exhortation  in  the  text ;  it  is 
well  minutely  to  meditate  on  it;  but,  as  I  have  said,  into 
the  depths  and  variety  of  these  particulars  I  am  not  now 
about  to  enter.  I  pass  at  once  to  that  second  general  lesson 
which,  I  have  observed  to  you,  was  involved  in  the  very 
parallelism  of  the  text;  not  merely  what  we  have  already 
insisted  on, — the  contrast  of  the  visible  and  the  invisible 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  hy  the  Gospel.  259 

worlds  as  the  objects  of  one  and  tlie  same  trusting  affec- 
tions,— but  the  further  and  most  impressive  fact,  that  our 
earthly  objects  of  pursuit  are  themselves  clad  by  hope  with 
colors  that  rightfully  belong  only  to  their  celestial  rivals ; 
that  our  ordinary  earthly  longings  themselves  strain  after 
a  really  heavenly  happiness,  while  they  miss  so  miserably 
the  way  to  reach  it;  that,  in  other  words,  in  the  treasuries 
of  heaven  are  laid  up  all  that  you  truly  covet,  even  while, 
by  a  wretched  illusion,  you  labor  after  their  mockeries  on 
earth !  Surely,  if  this  can  be  proved,  no  conceivable  argu- 
ment can  more  powerfully  demonstrate,  how  we  are  made 
for  religion,  and  can  only  find  our  true  rest  there ! 

Now  the  truth  is,  brethren !  so  wholly  are  we  framed  for 
the  eternal  world,  that  we  must  make  a  heaven  of  earth 
before  we  can  fully  enjoy  it ;  that  is  to  say,  we  must  ideally 
and  in  the  dreams  of  hope  or  fancy,  invest  this  world  with 
those  very  characteristics  which  are  the  exclusive  property 
of  the  world  to  come, — its  abundance,  its  dignity,  above  all, 
its  unfading  permanence, — before  we  can,  with  full  content 
of  heart,  sit  down  to  the  feast  it  offers  to  sense  and  soul. 
God  has  so  inwoven,  in  the  innermost  texture  of  our  nature, 
the  title  and  testimonies  of  the  immortal  state  for  which  He 
made  us,  that,  mingled  with  the  perishable  elements  of 
earth,  it  is,  even  now,  for  ever  around  us ;  it  rises  in  all  our 
dreams,  it  colors  all  our  thoughts,  it  haunts  us  with  long- 
ings we  cannot  repel ;  in  our  very  vices  it  reveals  itself,  for 
they  cannot  charm  us  till  they  have  more  or  less  counter- 
feited it :  and  thus,  not  merely  "  out  of  the  mouth  of  babes 
and  sucklings,"  but,  if  ye  will  receive  it,  out  of  the  mouth 
of  the  voluptuary  himself,  has  God  "ordained  praise,"  the 
praise  of  those  undying  enjoyments,  in  search  of  which  the 
wretch  has  gone  astray  among  shadows !  Our  miseries  are 
still  the  sublime  discontent  of  a  being  too  mighty  for  the 
perishable  world  he  dwells  in ;  a  deathless  spirit  is  impa- 
tient for  its  native  eternity.  Yes,  the  heir  of  immortality 
is  far  from  the  Father's  bosom,  by  what  mysterious  doom 


260  Human  Affections  raised,  [seem.  XV. 

it  skills  not  to  say ;  suffice  it,  he  awakes  to  breathe  a  hostile 
air ;  he  is  born  in  the  enemy's  country,  and  amid  the  camp 
of  the  prince  of  darkness.  They  have  trained  him  up 
among  them,  they  have  taught  him  (and,  oh !  with  what 
fatal  success !)  to  blaspheme  his  parent  and  despise  his  heri- 
tage ;  they  would  crush,  if  they  could,  every  trace  of  his 
high  lineage,  and  intercept  every  lingering  hope  that  still 
hovers  between  the  worlds  of  his  birthright  and  of  his  exile. 
But  it  cannot  all  perish !  There  are  aspirations  turned 
astray,  that,  evxn  in  their  distortion,  attest  their  origin  and 
purpose.  There  are  warped,  and  crippled,  and  polluted 
hopes,  that  even  from  their  dungeon  of  flesh,  still  cry  to 
heaven.  There  are  desires  that,  cursed  with  the  frenzy  of 
sin,  run  mad  through  the  thronged  and  heated  highways 
of  the  world, — yea,  that  are  evolved  in  all  the  hideous 
forms  of  vice,  and  intemperance,  and  blood.  But  vice 
itself  is  not  objectless ;  this  insanity  is  superinduced  upon 
sound  faculties ;  these  fires  are  the  fires  of  conflagration  and 
ruin,  but  they  do  not  less  than  others  point  to  the  sides! 
Ay,  even  vice  itself,  could  it  but  understand  its  own  blind 
emotions,  is  not  without  its  witness  of  immortality !  Not 
to  speak  of  those  hours  of  better  thought,  in  which  the 
most  degraded  are  known  to  catch  these  whispered  voices 
from  eternity,  surely  the  very  hours  of  highest  enjoyment 
are  not  without  this  attestation.  To  be  enjoyment  it  must 
be  felt  so ;  to  be  felt  so,  it  must  either  be  itself  congenial 
with  the  heavenly  country  (as  in  the  whole  train  of  the 
benevolent  affections,  themselves  happiness  and  heaven!) 
or  else,  by  the  accursed  mockery  I  have  denounced,  in- 
vested for  the  time  by  hope  and  fancy  with  the  characters 
which,  in  truth,  belong  only  to  the  world  of  eternity  and 
of  God ! 

In  the  spirit  of  these  convictions,  turn  again  to  the  text. 
To  whom  does  the  Apostle  enjoin  the  exhortation  ?  To 
"them  that  are  rich  in  this  world."  What  does  he  here 
assume  ?      ITe  assumes  the  existence  of  wealth,  and  (in- 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  hy  the  Oosiiel.  261 

volved  in  that  existence)  the  desire  to  attain  it,  which  is 
the  necessary  motive  for  its  accumulation.  He  assumes 
that  there  resides  in  the  heart  of  man  the  desire  to  build 
up  around  it  the  means  of  perpetual  enjoyment,  to  secure 
to  itself  the  materials  of  happiness, — of  happiness,  for  such 
is  the  specific  essence  of  moneyed  wealthy  that  may  be  inde- 
pendent of  the  moment,  and  which  (as  it  were,  condensed 
in  its  representative)  may  be  preserved  for  a  period  indefi- 
nitely future.  But  what  terms,  save  these^  shall  we  employ, 
when  we  would  depict  the  heaven  of  the  Scripture  revela- 
tion ?  What  characters  are  these  but  the  very  properties 
of  God's  eternal  world  ?  And  so  far  is  it  not  manifest  that 
the  votary  of  earthly  wealth  does  in  fact,  with  all  the 
energies  of  his  nature,  strain  after  that  very  security  of 
unchangeable  bliss  which  we  preach;  but,  mistaking  the 
illusory  phantom,  weds  his  whole  soul  to  the  fictitious 
heaven,  which  the  powers  of  evil  have  clothed  in  colors 
stolen  from  the  skies  ? 

The  delusion  produces  its  own  delusive  results.  But 
these  also  are  but  the  shadowy  copies  of  a  bright  and  holy 
reality.  Every  attribute  of  the  eager  candidate  for  earthly 
happiness  and  security  is  but  the  poor  semblance  of  the 
very  state  the  Christian  already  possesses  or  anticipates. 
The  rich  are  first  warned  of  the  peril  of  what  is  here  called 
^^  high-mindedness  f^  a  word  whose  happy  ambiguity  per- 
fectly corresponds  to  my  argument.  Superior  to  the  sur- 
rounding world  in  what  that  world  most  prizes,  the  wealthy 
Christian,  even  in  those  early  days  of  privation  and  perse- 
cution, might  be  tempted  to  betray  a  triumph  over  his  less 
gifted  brother.  Are  the  sincerely  Christian  of  our  own 
days  wholly  unspotted  of  that  blemish?  How  far  the  evil 
is  aggravated  among  the  nominally  Christian  it  would  be 
idle  to  insist.  Of  all  temptations  it  is  the  most  secret, 
constant,  penetrating,  and  perilous.  But  as  there  is  a 
worldly  and  Satanic  "  high-mindcdness,"  so  is  this  (as 
before)  but  the  counterfeit  presentment  of  a  high-minded- 


262  Human  Affections  raised^  [SERM.  XV. 

ness  God-given  and  celestial.  Laying  deep  its  foundations 
in  self-abasement,  the  doctrine  of  faith  alone  bestows  the 
blessed  confidence,  without  which  the  Christian  may  be  the 
inconsolable  penitent,  the  mortified  ascetic,  the  prostrate 
trembler  before  an  offended  God ;  but  without  which  he  is, 
nevertheless,  but  half  a  Christian.  The  happy  confidence 
of  the  children  of  God  is  an  element  which,  though  false 
teaching  may  exaggerate,  no  true  teaching  will  ever  dis- 
card. It  is  not  for  nothing  that  he  is  bid  to  rest  upon  the 
rock  of  ages,  and  to  anticipate  upon  earth  the  repose  of 
immortality.  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  the  justified  fugi- 
tive to  Christ  is  declared  to  possess  "  peace  with  God,"  and 
all  its  train  of  heavenly  consequences ;  rejoicing  in  tribu- 
lations, because  they  bring  patience,  and  experience,  and 
hope;  delighting  in  a  discipline,  every  hour  of  which  is 
refining  more  and  more  the  pure  gold  that  is  to  pass  from 
the  fire  of  earthly  trial  into  the  adorning  of  God's  eternal 
temple  !  It  is  not  for  nothing  that  he  is  bid  to  "  lift  up  his 
head  as  his  redemption  draweth  nigh ;"  and,  as  no  affliction 
can  separate  him  from  the  love  of  God  in  Christ,  so  to  suffer 
no  affliction  to  cloud  his  "yoy  in  the  Holy  Ghost;"  but 
sealed  with  the  Holy  Spirit  of  promise,  to  "  stand  fast  in 
the  Lord,"  '•'•  rejoicing  always."  And  even  in  the  earliest 
stages  of  the  course  which  ends  in  heaven,  there  is  a  justi- 
fiable, though  humble  and  moderated,  self-content,  insepa- 
rable from  righteous  self-exertion,  and  permitted  by  a 
gracious  God  to  His  struggling  disciple;  nor  shall  the 
solitary  combatant  with  evil  remain  uncheered  by  an  ex- 
ulting sense  that  his  cause  is  the  right  cause,  that  God  is 
with  him,  that  all  the  powers  of  good  are  enlisted  in  his 
behalf,  and  that,  if  he  be  but  true  to  himself,  he  cannot  fail, 
until  Satan  have  dethroned  the  Lord  of  heaven !  Here, 
then,  is  the  "  high-mindedness'^  of  the  Christian ;  here  is  the 
truth  to  match  that  worldly  falsehood,  that  high-mindedness 
base  and  debasing;   here  is  the  bright,  unchanging  fire, 


SERM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  by  the  Gospel  263 

wliicli  tlie  votary  of  this  world  would  rake  among  the  dust 
and  ashes  of  earth  to  enkindle ! 

Once  more,  the  "rich  in  this  world"  is  warned,  not 
merely  of  the  peril  of  self-exaltation,  but  also  of  that  of 
unbounded  ^Urust'^  in  the  fleeting  riches  he  accumulates. 
The  contrast  I  need  not  here  insist  on.  We  have  already 
noticed  it,  and  the  Apostle  himself  has  expressly  enforced 
it.  The  "  living  God"  and  His  liberal  graces  arise  to  claim 
the  homage  of  the  "  trusting"  heart.  The  dependent  on 
riches  makes  them  his  god,  in  making  them  the  object  of 
his  dependence.  Heaven  is  here  again  defrauded  of  its 
own,  and  all  the  charms  of  the  divine  character,  the  charms 
that  fix  and  fascinate  the  adoring  believer  in  Christ, — its 
abiding  permanence,  its  just  sovereignty,  its  fixed  security, 
its  unshaken  faithfulness, — all  are  torn  from  the  throne  of 
God  to  clothe  the  idol  of  the  worshipper  of  wealth !  I  need 
nQt  continue  the  argument.  You  will  perceive  how  uni- 
versally it  applies  to  all  the  variety  of  human  pursuits ; 
though  unquestionably  the  direct  pursuit  of  wealth  itself^ 
the  instance  presented  in  the  text,  seems  formed  to  embody 
and  illustrate  the  argument  with  special  and  singular  force. 
But  in  all  alike  the  same  principle  is  revealed ;  in  all  alike 
the  soul  made  for  heaven  is  seen  lost  among  heaven's 
shadows  upon  earth ;  it  feigns  the  heaven  it  cannot  find, 
and  casts  around  the  miserable  companions,  yea,  around 
the  inanimate  furniture,  of  its  exile, — the  dust  and  clay  of 
earth, — the  attributes  that  belong  to  the  God  it  was  born 
to  adore !  Brethren,  if  among  you  there  be  those  who  fear 
that  you  may,  in  any  degree,  have  thus  robbed  heaven  of 
its  rights,  and  suffered  your  affections  to  be  detained  on 
their  way  to  God  by  the  mockeries  that  belie  Him,  oh ! 
learn  at  length  to  recognize  the  true  and  unchangeable 
happiness  for  which  you  were  framed,  and  seek  it  where 
God  Himself  has  placed  it !  The  heart  and  affections  of 
man  are  too  precious  to  be  wasted  thus.  Lay  not  out  your 
rich  capital  of  faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  and  admiration, 


264  Human  Affections  raised^  [serm,  xv. 

upon  the  poor,  precarious  investments  this  world  at  best 
can  offer  you !  Impress  upon  your  hearts  the  conviction, 
— and  say,  is  it  not  a  proud  conviction? — that  not  one 
energy  of  all  this  host  of  energies  but  was  primarily  de- 
signed for  heaven ;  and  open,  in  this  blessed  belief,  the  fall 
tide  of  your  affections  to  that  world  where  alone  they  can 
ever  find  repose !  Kealize  the  presence  of  God  by  faith, 
know  Him,  as  He  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  and,  I  will  not  say 
love  Him, — to  know  Him  thus  is  to  love  Him ! 

This  is  that  life  in  the  world,  and  yet  above  the  world, 
wdnch  old  philosophy  saw  in  the  dim  distance,  and  fondly 
persuaded  itself  it  sometimes  reached.  Yain  illusion !  for 
what  is  all  ancient  learning  but  the  ever-varied  expression 
of  one  mighty  want,  one  consuming  hunger  of  the  heart, 
for  that  which  the  Desire  of  all  nations  came  to  give  ?  He 
had  prophets  to  publish  His  coming  in  type  and  in  predic- 
tion ;  but  not  these  were  his  prophets  alone.  Forerunners 
had  He,  mightier  and  more  awful  still,  hopes  and  fears,  and 
the  dread  oracles  of  conscience,  and  the  baffied  aspirations 
of  four  thousand  years  of  suffering  men ;  yea,  the  universal 
heart  of  mankind,  from  out  of  the  depths,  invoked  the 
presence  of  the  Kestorer,  though  it  could  not  read  its  own 
involuntary  prophecy.  Above  all  did  Death  itself,  and  all 
its  dread  accompaniments,  proclaim  a  mystery  to  be  solved 
alone  by  "  Him  that  was  to  come."  The  dying  heathen,  in 
that  awful  loneliness  of  spirit  which  is  the  most  fearful  at- 
tribute of  Death, — all  the  busy  scenery  of  life  melting  into 
shadows  around  him,  as  it  must  in  that  hour  around  each 
of  us, — but  with  nothing  before  him  but  the  blackness  of 
annihilation, — he,  in  his  very  helplessness  of  despair,  was 
the  symbol  of  that  want  the  Lord  of  life  came  to  satisfy. 
He  has  come,  and  He  has  shed  light  upon  the  grave  and 
beyond  it;  and  shall  we  not  walk  as  "children  of  the  light" 
He  has  given?  The  humblest  pupil  in  our  Christian 
schools,  knowing  more  of  the  history  and  destinies  of  man 
than  the  great  teachers  of  old  ever  dared  even  to  conjecture. 


SEKM.  XV.]  not  destroyed^  by  the  Gospel.  265 

shall  not  our  life  be  a  life  beyond  theirs  ?  And  if  they 
could  feel  that  there  is  that  in  us,  that  claims  nothing  short 
of  God  for  its  object,  shall  not  we,  who  know  this  for  a  fact, 
surpass  them  who  dreamed  it  for  a  possibility,  and,  rising 
habitually  into  the  eternal  world  which  is  our  home,  learn, 
with  all  the  forces  of  our  hearts,  human  indeed,  but  exalted 
to  things  divine,  "to  trust  not  in  uncertain  riches,"  not  in 
aught  else  that  is  uncertain,  unsatisfying,  unenduring,  "but 
in  the  living  God?'' 


23 


SERMON  XVI. 


THE  EEST  OF  THE  PEOPLE  OF  GOD. 


For  David  said,  The  Lord  God  of  Israel  hath  given  rest  unto  His  people. — 
1  Chronicles  xxiii.  25. 


My  brethren !  these  are  words  of  weight  to  reflective  and 
feeling  hearts.  In  these  simple  words  we  may  truly  say, 
that  the  peculiar  and  pre-eminent  gift  which  our  religion 
promises  to  confer,  is,  in  a  mystic  and  symbolical  form,  set 
before  us.  The  rest  which,  externally  and  nationall}^, 
David  here  congratulates  his  land  on  attaining,  prefigures 
deeper  realities;  it  speaks  to  us  of  that  rest  which  "the 
whole  creation"  naturally  "groaneth  and  travaileth  for;" 
of  that  rest  which  our  God  hath  ever  proclaimed,  as  the  at- 
tribute of  His  own  mighty  essence,  and  the  exclusive  bless- 
ing of  His  eternal  kingdom.  The  good  king  of  Israel 
felicitates  his  subjects  on  their  happy  privilege  of  living 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Most  High,  of  being  the  peculiar 
people  of  Him  to  v/hom  all  the  tribes  of  the  earth  owe  alle- 
giance, and,  specially,  of  now  possessing  that  mark  of  His 
favor,  which  is  implied  in  being  permitted  to  close  with  a 
period  of  rest  the  long  and  stormy  annals  of  their  previous 
national  history.  But  do  you  suppose  that  his  mind^  ever 
illumined  with  predictive  knowledge,  and  ever  glowing 
with  those  high-wrought  spiritual  affections  that  in  good 
men's  hearts  are  themselves  a  kind  of  prophecy  of  a  blessed 
future, — do  you  suppose  that  the  mind  of  him  who  so  often 
wished  for  "the  wings  of  a  dove,  to  fly  away  and  be  at  rest," 


SEEM.  XVI.]        llie  Rest  of  the  People  of  Ood.  267 

gave  no  deeper  significancy  to  his  words,  when  he  spoke  of 
the  "rest"  which  "the  Lord  God  had  given  to  His  people?" 
The  author  of  Psahns,  which  are,  to  this  day,  the  best  ex- 
pressions the  Church  possesses  of  its  highest  Christian  ex- 
perience,— PsahiTs,  which,  wherever  we  go  in  spiritual  feel- 
ing, we  shall  find  have  been  there  before  us; — the  man, 
whose  fervent  and  tender  heart  gave  utterance  to  such 
songs  as  these,  we  may  well  believe,  had  brighter  hopes  of 
rest  than  any  national  prosperity  could  ever  answer.  He 
must  have  known  and  felt  that  external  peace  is  of  little  or 
no  value,  save  as  it  tends  to  alloAV  the  cultivation  of  the 
interior  peace  "  which  passeth  understanding ;"  that  instru- 
ments cannot  harmonize  together  to  any  purpose,  when  each 
is  not  in  tune  tvith  itself! 

But,  besides  these  holy  aspirations  and  just  convictions, 
which  belonged  to  such  a  heart  as  that  of  David,  it  is  im- 
possible not  to  feel,  that  the  whole  mass  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment language,  in  describing  national  favors,  points  natu- 
rally to  higher  and  better  graces.  The  soul,  whose  gratitude 
glorified  God  for  the  wealth  of  a  favored  country,  was  al- 
ready prepared  to  glorify  Him  for  the  more  precious  inter- 
nal riches  of  His  gracious  Spirit. 

I.  In  the  mysterious  polity  of  the  people  of  Israel, 
spiritual  and  temporal  blessings  were  so  closely  allied,  that 
the  same  language  might  naturally  be  employed  to  signify 
either.  To  a  people  who  lived  under  the  direct  government 
of  God,  temporal  felicity  was  the  consequence,  and  thence 
the  indication,  of  divine  favor;  and  when  once  the  vast 
conception  of  immediate  divine  agency  is  introduced  into 
the  minds  of  men,  it  can  scarcely  lie  idle  there.  When, 
with  the  conviction  (founded  on  palpable  evidence  of  sense 
and  experience)  of  special  divine  superintendence^  was  com- 
bined the  pure  and  lofty  moral  nature  of  the  divine  governor^ 
as  revealed  in  the  laAV  issued  by  Moses,  it  is  inconceivable 
but  that  the  higher  class  of  Israelitish  minds,  the  holy  and 
meditative  class,  must  often  have  felt,  that  the  mass  of  ordi- 


268  The  Best  of  the  People  of  God.       [SERM.  xvi. 

nances  wliicli  surrounded  them  were  truly  meant  as  types 
of  some  more  profound  spiritual  realities,  and  that  their 
whole  national  history  was  intended,  in  some  secret  waj^, 
to  image  forth  a  moral  history,  wider  in  its  purpose  and 
extent,  and  more  adequate  to  the  power  and  dignity  of  a 
God  whom,  at  the  very  time  they  were  exulting  in  His 
special  favor,  they  well  knew  to  be  the  Grod  of  the  ivhole 
earth  as  well  as  of  the  territory  of  Israel,  yea,  even  "  a  God 
whom  the  heaven  of  heavens  could  not  contain."  Among 
our  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament,  Ave  possess  an  in- 
valuable tract,  whose  especial  purpose  is  to  unfold  the 
true  purport  of  that  dialect  of  things  symbolical,  through 
which  it  pleased  God  to  address  the  people  of  Israel.  I 
allude,  as  you  know,  to  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews.  In 
that  Epistle  we  are  taught  to  understand  the  prophetic  lan- 
guage of  ceremonies;  and,  in  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  to  con- 
template the  one  substance  of  so  may  typical  shadows.  But 
we  can  also  read  more  than  this  in  the  inspired  interpreta- 
tion of  inspired  rites,  furnished  by  the  Spirit  of  God  in  that 
Epistle.  We  can  perceive  that  God  spoke  in  a  dialect  of 
events^  no  less  than  in  a  dialect  of  ceremonies ;  that  the  history 
and  fortunes  of  Israel  were  meant  as  truly  (though  not  in- 
deed in  the  same  degree)  to  foreshadow  interior  truths ;  and 
that  the  Jewish  student,  who  in  a  fitting  spirit  meditated 
over  the  records  of  his  country,  might  detect  there  the  laws 
of  God's  spiritual^  as  really  as  of  His  temporal,  providence, 
and  become,  in  a  manner,  an  anticipated  Christian !  Thus 
it  is,  brethren,  that  the  Old  Testament  becomes  to  us  a 
symbolical  history,  not  only  of  the  facts  that  secure  our  jus- 
tification, but  also  of  the  grace  that  constitutes  or  sanctifi- 
cation.  To  evince  how  truly  the  history  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment addresses  the  internal  experience  of  Christians,  I  might 
refer  you  to  the  eleventh  chapter  of  that  interpretative 
Epistle  to  which  I  have  drawn  your  attention.  You  will 
there  find  the  radical  virtue  of  CJiristianity^  the  grace  of 
faith,  made  to  be  the  moving  principle  of  the  whole  Jewish 


SEEM.  XVI.]       The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.  269 

historjj^  as  far  as  it  was  a  history  of  successful  achievements ; 
and  the  history  itself,  under  God's  guidance,  arranged  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  display  the  reality  and  power  of  that 
principle ;  so  that  Christianity  shall  appear,  not  so  much  to 
require  a  new  virtue^  as  to  present  a  new  ohject  to  a  pre-ex- 
isting virtue.  But  I  prefer  to  turn  jomt  attention  to  another 
part  of  the  same  Epistle,  not  only  becaase  it  has  direct  refer- 
ence to  our  immediate  subject,  but  because  it  carries  the  value 
of  the  Old  Testament  histories  a  step, — and  a  very  import- 
ant step, — farther.  It  establishes  that  they  contain  not 
only  a  series  of  symbolical  representations  of  the  atoning 
sacrifice^  and  constant  instances  of  the  grace  that  apprehends 
it,  but  also  hints  and  shadows  of  the  rewarding  blessedness 
which  consecrates  each  heart  that,  relying  upon  that  sacri- 
fice, walks  holily  with  God.  In  the  fourth  chapter  of  the 
Epistle,  it  is  shown  that  the  "rest"  which  the  Israelites  en- 
joyed in  the  land  of  promise,  no  less  than  the  rest  of  the 
Sabbath-day,  was  symbolical  of  the  repose  of  the  persever- 
ing Christian.  It  is  shown,  moreover,  that  specially  through 
the  mouth  of  David  (whose  words  we  are  this  day  consider- 
ing) the  Spirit  of  God  presignified  this  rest.  And  though 
it  is  commonly  held  that  the  Apostle,  in  this  passage  of  his 
Epistle,  solely  has  regard  to  that  eternal  rest  which  remains, 
beyond  the  grave,  to  the  faithful  people  of  God,  I  confess 
that  I  cannot  consent  to  limit  the  purport  of  his  expres- 
sions to  that  exclusive  scope.  I  believe  that  he  speaks  gene- 
rically  of  the  blessed  rest  of  a  devoted  believer ;  a  rest  not 
indeed  consummated  until  the  gates  of  the  grave  are  passed, 
but  begun  before  they  are  reached ;  and  that,  while  he 
directs  the  attention  of  his  readers  to  the  repose  of  heaven, 
as  the  noblest  instance  of  the  peace  which  he  is  eulogizing, 
it  is  only  as  the  noblest  instance  that  he  cites  it.  "  We  which 
have  believed  do  enter  into  rest,^^  he  declares ;  and  if  the  pro- 
priety of  this  version  be  questioned,  as,  on  the  ground  of  a 
peculiar  idiom  of  present  for  future,  it  has  been,  I  cannot 
but  think  that  the  reasoning   in  the  tenth  verse  of  the 


270  The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.       [seem.  xvi. 

chapter  is  of  itself  sufficient  to  demonstrate,  Iioav  compre- 
hensive was  the  view  which  the  Apostle,  in  this  place,  was 
taking  of  the  "  rest"  of  a  Christian  spirit.  Comparing  the 
Sabbath  of  God's  rest  at  creation  with  the  Sabbath  that  is 
left  to  the  people  of  God,  he  justifies  the  comparison  by 
urging,  that  "  he  tliat  is  entered  into  his  rest,  he  also  hath 
ceased  from  his  own  works,  as  God  did  from  His."  This, 
surely,  would  seem  to  show  that  lohen  we  cease  from  "  our 
own  works"  the  sacred  rest  commences.  What,  then,  are 
"our  own  works?"  We  may  perhaps  derive  some  light 
from  the  contrasted  expression  in  the  second  chapter  and 
twenty -sixth  verse  of  Revelation  :  "  lie  that  keepeth  my 
works  unto  the  end,  to  him  will  I  give  power  over  the 
nations."  By  "  our  own  w^orks,"  therefore,  I  would  under- 
stand all  those  wretched  and  laborious  ways  of  life,  which 
have  their  origin  and  end  in  the  corrupted  principles  of 
our  own  hearts ;  as  contrasted  with  those  ways  of  life  and 
happiness  which  at  once  become  ours,  and  with  them  a 
sabbath-rest  of  spirit,  when  (and  surely  this  is  before  the 
grave),  abandoning  all  the  miserable  devices  with  which  the 
wisdom  of  this  world  endeavors  to  delude  itself  into  ficti- 
tious happiness,  we  cast  our  sins  upon  the  sacrificed  Lamb 
of  God,  our  cares  upon  the  Father  of  mercies,  and,  in  the 
bright  confidence  of  faith,  walk  humbly  on  to  heaven  feel- 
ing already  within  us  the  dawnings  of  the  heaven  we  are 
approaching ! 

II.  I  say  then,  brethren !  that  it  is  not  unwarrantable  for 
us  to  conjecture  that,  in  the  joyous  utterance  of  his  inmost 
heart,  contained  in  the  text,  David  insinuated  profounder 
truths  than  lie  on  the  surface  of  his  words ;  that  when  the 
patriot  cried  that  "  the  Lord  God  of  Israel  had  given  rest  unto 
His  xjeople^^''  he  was  not  more  the  patriot  of  Israel  than  of  man- 
kind ;  or,  at  least,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  spoke  through  his 
lips  with  a  higher  purpose,  to  be  explained  and  developed 
by  the  events  of  subsequent  ages.  But,  even  though  the 
significancy  of  his  words  was  of  a  transient  and  temporary 


SERM.  xvl]        The  Rest  of  ilie  People  of  God.  271 

nature,  it  is  impossible  for  lis  not  to  regard,  witli  interest  and 
curiosity,  the  important  crisis  on  which  they  were  spoken. 
The  pious  King  had  just  organized  all  the  officers  con- 
nected with  divine  worship,  upon  a  footing  suitable  to  the 
new  service  npon  which  they  were  to  be  engaged.  The 
ark  of  the  Lord  was  no  longer  to  be  borne  from  place  to 
place  ;  the  visible  presence  of  God  was  no  longer  to  continue 
a  wanderer  among  the  homes  of  Israel.  Change  and  unset- 
tlement  were  to  give  place  to  permanence  and  repose.  The 
ancient  city  of  Salem,  where  a  priest,  Melchisedek,  had  ruled 
in  the  days  of  Abraham,  and  where  a  high-priest  "  after 
his  order''  was  to  offer  up  a  mightier  oblation  in  after  ages, 
was  selected  by  God,  as  the  centre  and  scene  of  that  middle 
dispensation,  which  was  to  connect  the  faith  of  Abraham 
with  the  sacrifice  of  Christ.  It  is  not  wonderful  that  David, 
looking  upon  the  past  history  of  his  country,  a  history  of 
troubles  and  uncertainties,  a  history,  for  the  most  part,  of 
crime  and  punishment,  and  now  contemplating  the  glorious 
and  contrasted  prospect  of  settled  peace,  should  have  burst 
forth  in  gratitude  and  joy.  The  light  of  divine  favor,  which 
before  had  gleamed  upon  Israel  in  sudden  and  transient 
flashes,  seemed  now  to  fix,  like  a  noon-day  sun,  in  steady 
and  continuous  lustre.  And  he  himself,  who  had  been  so 
strangely  chosen  for  the  purpose  by  the  Lord,  had  per- 
formed a  distinguished  part  in  this  great  revolution.  JSe, 
as  a  warrior,  had  begun  what  his  son,  as  a  man  of  peace, 
was  to  consummate.  The  God  of  Israel,  in  permitting  Ilis 
ark  to  be  deposited  in  a  permanent  abode,  seemed  to  gua- 
rantee the  eternal  glory  of  the  city  of  David.  And  it  seemed 
at  length  that  the  Lord  was  about  to  give  liis  people  the 
proof  of  His  peculiar  favor  which  they  might  naturally 
have  expected,  by  actually  exalting  them  to  the  highest 
temporal  position  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  and  by 
making  the  divine  glory  on  the  mercy-seat  the  centre  from 
which  the  deputed  authority  of  God  was  to  radiate  to  the 
circumference  of  the  world !      "  The  Lord  God  of  Israel 


272  The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.       [serm.  xvi. 

Lath  given  rest  unto  His  people,  that  they  may  dwell  in  Jeru- 
salem for  everT 

Whether,  and  how  far,  the  King  of  Israel,  when  he  spoke 
these  words,  sympathized  with  such  lofty  expectations  as 
those,  or  to  what  extent  his  prophetic  vision  corrected  all 
exaggerated  anticipations  of  this  kind,  it  would  not  be  very 
easy  to  determine.  His  high  spiritual  affections,  doubtless, 
led  him  to  anticipate  a  purer  internal  felicity  than  any 
which  temporal  distinctions  could  bring,  as  alone  worthy  of 
the  moral  character  of  the  holy  Grod  whom  he  served.  But 
his  deep  patriotism,  his  sympathy  with  the  welfare  of  his 
native  land,  might  by  an  amiable  weakness,  give  to  these 
feelings  a  more  earthly  turn.  With  such  an  equality  of 
rival  affections,  a  direct  revelation  from  heaven  alone  could 
turn  the  balance;  and  though  we  know  that  David  was  des- 
tined to  be  the  channel  of  much  of  our  most  definite  Chris- 
tian prophecy,  we  cannot  be  certain  how  far  he  understood 
the  purport  of  what  he  prophetically  declared,  and  how  far 
the  words  of  his  utterance,  which  illumine  our  convictions 
at  this  day,  illumined  his  own,  when  he  spoke  or  wrote 
them. 

But,  whatever  was  the  measure  of  knowledge  vouchsafed 
at  that  period,  hoAV  utterly  would  he  have  been  deceived, 
who  entertained  such  expectations  of  the  future  glory  of 
Israel  as  I  have  mentioned !  It  was  the  destiny  of  that 
country,  after  a  brief  period  of  prosperity,  to  separate  into 
rival  dynasties,  to  run  through  a  course  of  much  iniquity, 
to  despise  constant,  reiterated  warnings,  and  at  length  to 
merge  in  utter  ruin,  undestroyed,  indeed,  but  preserved 
only  as  a  monument  of  God's  abiding  vengeance.  But 
mark  the  unsearchable  depths  of  the  purposes  of  Provi- 
dence! These  national  misfortunes  brought  in  universal 
blessedness.  Israel  fell  to  prepare  the  salvation  of  man- 
kind; and  the  "rest,"  which  the  Lord  God  denied  His 
people,  was  denied,  only  that  an  everlasting  rest  might  be 
secured  to  His  spiritual  people  for  ever!     Well  might  the 


SEEM.  XVI.]        The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.  273 

Apostle,  who  was  chosen  as  the  chief  laborer  in  this  exten- 
sion of  the  kingdom  of  God,  exclaim  when  He  contem- 
plated that  great  revolution :  "  Oh !  the  depth  of  the  riches, 
and  the  wisdom,  and  the  knowledge  of  God!  How  un- 
searchable are  His  judgments,  and  His  ways  past  finding 
out !" 

III.  If,  then,  my  brethren !  "  there  remaineth  a  rest  to 
the  people  of  God,"  through  Christ,  which  was  outwardly 
and  temporally  refused  to  the  people  of  God  in  Israel,  it 
becomes  ns  to  secure  this  great  blessing  as  the  sole  or  chief 
object  of  existence.  "  Let  us  therefore  fear,"  says  the  Apos- 
tle, "  lest,  a  promise  being  left  us  of  entering  into  His  rest, 
any  of  you  should  seem  to  come  short  of  it!" 

Brethren !  this  rest  which  "  the  Lord  God  of  Israel"  be- 
stows on  His  spiritual  Israel, — "  that  they  should  dwell  in 
Jerusalem  (even  the  heavenly  Jerusalem)  for  ever," — is,  I 
must  once  more  remind  you,  no  unattainable  blessing  even 
on  this  side  of  the  grave.  It  is  the  mark  of  a  poor  spirit  to 
be  satisfied  with  small  things!  Believe  it,  we  never  re- 
ceived the  principle  of  ambition  for  nothing!  Set  it  to  work 
on  its  proper  objects,  and  it  is  a  noble  element  of  our  na- 
ture. Alas !  we  seem  to  covet  every  happiness  but  religious 
happiness;  we  spurn  the  idea  of  inferiority  in  every  pursuit, 
but  that  in  which  the  prize  is  an  immortal  crown  !  I  know 
not  your  personal  histories;  I  have  never  inquired  into  the 
special  dissatisfactions  of  those  who  now  hear  me ;  "  the 
heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness,"  and  "  a  stranger  inter- 
meddleth  not"  either  "with  its  joy"  or  its  sorrow.  But  in 
addressing  an  assembly  of  human  beings,  I  need  not  doubt, 
that  I  am  addressing  many  whose  hearts  are  asking  for  a 
happiness  which  the  circumstances  of  life  deny  them.  I 
need  not  doubt,  that  there  surround  me  numbers,  Avhose 
hourly  experience  presents  them  with  causes,  continually 
recurring,  of  discontent  with  the  ordinary  course  of  life. 
It  is  said  that  our  religion  regards  such  discontent  as  a 
crime.     In  a  certain  sense,  the  doctrine  is  true,  but  in  a 


274:  TJie  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.       [serm.  xyi. 

wider  and  more  important  sense,  it  is  utterly  false.  With 
the  temporal  dispensations  of  God,  whatever  they  be,  a 
Christian  is  bound  to  be  content ;  but  for  the  man  who  is 
not  a  Christian^  that  discontent  should  be  his  portion  is  the 
prayer  of  merc}^  itself!  May  such  a  man  continue  discon- 
tented with  all  that  the  world  can  bring !  Such  discontent 
is  the  voice  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  for  whom  his  nature  was 
originally  formed,  calling  upon  him  to  perceive  and  acknow- 
ledge, that  he  has  "  no  abiding  city  here,"  and  that,  in  seek- 
ing after  "  the  things  that  belong  to  his  peace,"  he  must 
turn  to  the  Prince  of  Peace!  Glorious  discontent  indeed, — 
though  it  be  the  misery  of  this  world,  it  is  the  truest  testi- 
mony to  the  inherent  dignity  of  our  fallen  nature !  What' 
some  dreamer  imagined  as  to  the  structure  of  the  earth  we 
live  on,  is  a  truth  as  regards  our  own  internal  nature.  We 
are  indeed  a  fragment  struck  from  the  great  source  of  light 
and  heat,  from  the  sun  of  eternal  righteousness ;  and  if  the 
force  that  wilfully  separates  us  from  our  origin  would  but 
cease  to  operate,  we  should  return  to  our  native  birth-place, 
even  the  bosom  of  our  Father, — ayc  should  fly  to  the  centre 
of  all  good,  and  there  abide  in  blessedness  for  ever ! 

Now,  my  brethren  !  to  effect  this  union  is  the  great  object 
of  our  religion;  "Christ  the  Mediator"  is  the  link  that 
binds  us  to  the  centre  of  everlasting  happiness.  He  is,  in 
His  own  profound  words,  describing  this  spiritual  media- 
tion,— "  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life."  He  is  "  the  way" 
that  leads  to  truth  and  life,  "the  truth"  through  which  we 
must  behold  the  life,  and"  "the  life"  which,  as  opposed  to 
death  and  imperfection  leading  to  death,  is  the  perfection 
and  consummation  of  all  conscious  natures.  Christ,  and 
Christ's  law,  is  the  true  answer  to  all  these  discontents  which 
harass  and  afflict  you.  If  it  could  not  give  such  an  answer 
it  would  not  be  worth  your  attention.  Observe  now,  in  a 
few  words,  whether  it  is  not  formed  to  produce  the  true 
internal  peace.  Your  oicn  j^raijers,  and  the  Spirit  of  God 
that  animates  and  that  answers  them,  must  bestow  the  real- 


SERM.  XVI.]       The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.    '  275 

ities  of  these  truths ;  I  only  ask  you  to  acknowledge  is  not 
the  machinery  prepared,  if  you  would  but  take  advantage 
of  it,  and  effectively  put  it  in  motion ! 

TV.  1.  I  insist,  then,  that  rest  and  peace  must  fall  upon 
a  Christian  spirit, — first  from  its  devotion  to  Christ  Him- 
self, and  its  devoted  imitation  of  His  pure  and  perfect  ex- 
ample. The  life  of  a  Christian  is  the  imitation  of  Christ. 
"  If,  when  we  were  enemies,"  says  the  inspired  reasoner,  "we 
were  reconciled  to  God  by  the  death  of  His  Son,  much  more, 
being  reconciled^  ive  shall  he  saved  by  His  life^  And  saved, 
I  Avould  again  say,  my  brethren !  by  a  salvation  which  com- 
mences even  in  this  life.  If,  indeed  and  in  truth,  feeling 
that  our  beloved  Master  was  human  as  ourselves,  we  would 
but  determine  to  walk  as  He  walked,  to  do  the  deeds  of 
righteousness  as  He  did,  to  love  where  He  loved,  and  hate 
as  He  hated, — though  ever  far  below  our  model,  and  though, 
as  works  of  righteousness  our  works  could  command  but 
little  approbation,  yet,  with  all  this,  God  would  look  com- 
placently upon  such  a  state,  and  our  conscience,  which  is, 
in  some  respect,  the  image  of  God  upon  earth,  would  bring 
us  a  peace  beyond  what  the  world  could  give.  If  by  con- 
stantly regarding  the  character  of  Christ,  as  it  is  presented 
in  the  New  Testament,  and  living  in  His  Spirit,  we  would 
but  earnestly  set  ourselves  to  copy  that  all-perfect  example, 
the  Apostle  is  our  guarantee  as  to  the  consequences,  when 
he  tells  us  that  by  "  beholding,  as  in  a  glass,  the  glory  of  the 
Lord,  we  are  changed  into  the  same  image^  from  glory  to 
glory  1"  And,  among  all  the  imitable  attributes  of  Christ, 
none  is  more  beautiful  than  his  perfect  j;eace.  In  His  sad- 
dest hours  He  walked  on  earth  as  the  God  of  it!  In  the 
midst  of  His  affliction  He  was  calm.  He  had  voluntarily 
undertaken  His  humiliation,  and  He  bore  it  with  the  quiet 
dignity  of  a  vohmtary  sufferer.  When  he  wished  that 
"  the  cup  should  pass,"  He  ended  the  wish  with  a  prayer 
of  resignation ;  and  when  on  the  cross  His  exceeding  agony 
burst  forth  in  the  terrific  cry  that  "  God  had  forsaken  Him," 


276  The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.       [SERM.  xvi. 

we  shudder  at  the  thought,  only  because,  in  being  so  alien 
from  His  usual  habits,  it  forces  on  us  a  dim  conception  of 
the  depths  of  horror  His  spirit  must  have  labored  through, 
— how  all  the  powers  of  evil  must  have  assaulted  His  soul 
at  that  tremendous  hour.  But  the  celestial  warrior  con- 
quered  them,  conquered  all,  and,  after  a  dread  struggle,  was 
at  length  enabled  to  say,  "  It  is  finished," — the  most  mo- 
mentous sentence  that  was  ever  uttered  since  God  said, 
"  Let  us  make  man." 

If  you  doubt  whether  you  can  attain  this  celestial  peace 
of  Christ,  I  remand  you  to  His  own  words : — "  Peace  I 
leave  with  you.  My  i^eace  I  give  unto  you ;  not  as  the  world 
giveth  give  I  unto  you."  Blessed  Lord !  thou  dost  indeed 
give  us  this  peace  when  thou  giveth  thyself  as  our  ex- 
ample !  To  be  thy  disciples  and  copyists  is  to  be  at  peace 
with  everything  but  sin ! 

2.  But  this  influence  of  the  character  of  Christ  becoming 
the  great  exemplar  of  their  actions  is  not  the  onlj^  cause 
which  works  peace  and  rest  in  the  hearts  of  His  followers. 
The  veri)  sinrjleness  of  the  object  of  His  hope  has  a  power  to 
elevate  the  Christian  above  the  petty  concerns  of  daily  life. 
The  Marthas  of  the  world  are  "  careful  and  troubled  about 
many  things ;"  the  Marys  feel  that  "  there  is  07ie  thing  need- 
ful." Those  who  have  many  debts  often  feel  it  a  relief  to 
exchange  them  all  for  a  single  creditor ;  he  whose  whole 
heart  is  bent  upon  reaching  a  single  point  leaves  all  around 
him  on  his  way  in  equal  and  complete  insignificance.  The 
true  peace  of  mind  is  that  which  resolves  all  into  a  single 
principle.  God  is  one ;  let  our  affections  but  partake  of  the 
unity  of  that  object,  and  we  shall  have  reached  the  path- 
way of  real  and  imperishable  rest. 

3.  I  might  argue  the  same  great  question  from  the  vei-y 
nature  of  the  Christian  affections^  affections  whose  very  exer- 
cise is  peace  and  happiness.  For,  unlike  certain  vain  and 
false  systems  of  human  device,  Christianity  does  not  sup- 
press those  affections,  but  direcls  them.    In  the  very  exercise  of 


SERM.  XVI.]        The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.  277 

faith,  and  hope,  and  love,  there  are  the  materials  of  peace, 
even  apart  from  the  subject  of  these  feelings.  The  mere 
position  of  a  mind  believing,  and  trusting,  and  loving,  is 
one  of  real  happiness.  But  I  do  not  delay  you  on  this 
point,  because  I  wish  you  finally  to  weigh  that  great  mo- 
tive to  Christian  peace  and  happiness  which  arises  from  its 
hope  being  anchored  in  a  future  world. 

4.  In  such  a  state  as  ours,  unless  the  eternal  world  in 
some  manner  becomes  the  guarantee  of  this,  we  are  the 
slaves  of  every  accident,  without  any  hope  for  the  future, 
any  consolation  for  misfortune,  any  substantial  or  perma- 
nent motive  for  conduct,  any  reward  for  endurance,  any 
guide  for  life.  To  support,  still  more  to  exalt  us,  heaven 
must  mingle  with  earth.  You  know  that  to  direct  a  vessel 
upon  the  ocean  there  must  be  two  elements  at  work,  the 
air  must  modify  the  agency  of  the  water ;  you  know  that 
to  set  a  vessel  at  rest  there  must  be  more  elements  than 
one  employed,  and  the  earth  must  afford  the  means  of 
resisting  the  breezes  and  the  sea.  Now  this  comparison, 
rude  as  it  is,  may  assist  you  in  conceiving  the  position  of 
man  in  the  voyage  of  his  life.  The  earthly  and  the  hea- 
venly elements  must  combine,  or  we  are  powerless.  Con- 
fined to  the  single  element  of  our  corrupted  nature,  we  are 
the  sport  of  every  accident,  we  have  no  rules  for  our  navi- 
gation. If  you  doubt  it,  recur  to  your  own  experience  as 
to  the  fortunes  of  the  exclusively  worldly,  and  you  will 
find  such,  running  adrift  without  ixnj  real  principle  of 
motion  or  certainty  of  course,  and  upon  a  sea  already 
bestrewn  with  shipwrecks!  But  they  who  join  to  the 
human  nature  the  higher  element,  they  have  a  power  that 
guides  them  to  the  everlasting  haven !  To  have  the  great 
object  of  our  thoughts  placed  beyond  the  chances  of  human 
life  is  to  place  ourselves  beyond  them!  Our  hope  "en- 
tereth  into  that  within  the  veil !"  The  Christian  lays  hold 
of  a  chain  which  is  bound  to  the  throne  of  God ;  he  links 
himself  to  the  eternal  certainties  of  nature ;  the  immutable 
24 


278  The  Rest  of  the  People  of  God.       [seem.  xvi. 

attributes  of  tlie  God  of  the  universe  are  pledged  for  his 
security !  As  the  certainty  of  the  end  is  greater  than  that 
of  the  means,  and  as  the  dead  world  that  surrounds  us 
exists,  doubtless,  with  a  main  view  to  the  Christian  people 
of  God, — the  less  perfect  being  ever  subordinate  to  the 
more  perfect, — so  we  may  say  that  the  firmest  laws  of 
nature  and  man,  the  very  foundations  of  the  world  that 
now  is,  are  less  firm  and  durable  than  the  purpose  of 
God  to  make  His  faithful  people  happy !  Hence  the 
awful  words  of  our  Lord :  "  Heaven  and  earth  shall  pass 
away,  but  my  words  shall  not  pass  away."  The  laws  that 
bind  together  the  elements  of  the  universe  may  vanish 
and  give  place  to  new  relations  and  connections ;  the  law 
that  binds  together  the  eternal  sovereignty  of  Christ  with 
the  happiness  of  His  people,  is  unchangeable  as  God  Him- 
self !  Shall  we  call  it  less  than  insanity^  the  perversity  that 
sends  men  from  such  promises  as  these  to  grovel  in  the 
delusive  felicities  of  worldly  pleasure,  that  all  experience 
proves  to  be  short  and  bitter  mockeries  ?  Shall  we  call  it 
less  than  absolute  idiotcy^  the  ivorse  perversity  that  blinds 
even  the  afflicted,  those  who  have  never  known  that  dream 
of  worldly  prosperity, — to  the  free  offers  of  the  everlasting 
Consoler  ?  If  such  dreamers  be  among  you^  God  calls  upon 
them  to  awake  from  their  visions,  to  awake  even  now  to 
righteousness  and  peace ;  unless  they  would  defer  their 
time  of  awaking  to  that  momentous  hour  when  the  sound 
of  the  trumpet  shall  awake  them,  to  know  (how  dreadful,  if 
to  know  then  for  the  first  time !)  the  terrible  realities  of 
eternity  I  But  for  the  loeople  of  God^  the  children  on  earth 
of  faith,  and  hope  and  love, — let  the  passage  on  which  we 
have  been  commenting  speak  for  them, — "the  Lord  God 
hath  given  rest  to  Mis  people^  that  they  may  dwell  in  Jeru- 
salem for  ever," — even  that  "  new  Jerusalem,"  "  the  holy 
city,"  "coming  down  from  God  out  of  heaven." 


SERMON  XVII. 

CHRIST  THE  TREASURY  OF  WISDOM  AND  KNOWLEDGE. 
In  whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge. — Colossiaxs  ii.  3. 

Here  is  a  sentence,  my  brethren^  wliich  might  well  claim 
to  attract  the  notice  of  an  age,  whose  prominent  character- 
istic it  is  to  covet  "  knowledge"  under  all  its  forms.  AYe 
are  not  apt,  with  the  Jews,  "  to  require  a  sign ;"  it  has  be- 
come rather  unfashionable  to  admit  the  possibility  of  one ; 
bat  we  assuredly  display  no  small  development  of  that 
other  tendency,  with  "the  Greeks,"  to  "seek  after  wisdom^ 
Now  this  is  a  tendency  of  Avhich,  as  you  know,  the  Scriptures 
give  very  opposite  accounts.  Sometimes  "to  search  for 
knowledge  as  for  hid  treasures"  is  applauded  as  the  noblest 
business  of  man ;  a  labor  rewarded  by  the  richest  testimo- 
nies of  divine  favor,  and  involving,  as  it  would  seem,  almost 
every  other  excellence  within  it.  At  other  times,  to  search 
after  wisdom  is  coldly  rebuked  as  the  characteristic  of  the 
arrogant  and  dissatisfied  caviller,  the  mark  of  a  heart 
alienated  from  the  obedience  of  God,  the  temper  inherited 
from  that  unhappy  mother  who  did  eat  of  the  tree  because 
she  saw  it  was  "  a  tree  to  be  desired  to  make  one  tcisey 
Can  the  same  act  be  liable  to  a  verdict  so  opposite,  and  this 
a  verdict  from  the  very  tribunal  of  infallible  truth  ?  Yes, 
— for  it  is  the  same  act  founded  in  opposite  dispositions  and 
motives;  or  rather,  as  these  dispositions  and  motives  are 
themselves  the  direct  objects  of  the  divine  perception  and 
judgment,  it  is  not  the  same  act,  but  acts  different  and  oppo- 


280  Christ  the  Treasury  of  [serm.  xvil. 

site,  though  expressed  under  the  same  title  from  the  same- 
ness of  outward  appearance. 

And  thus,  when  in  one  place,  already  alluded  to,  the 
Apostle  has  noticed  the  Grecian  solicitude  for  "  wisdom," 
he  adds,  by  way  of  contrast,  that  "  we  preach  Christ  cruci- 
fied," w^ho  was  to  these  disputants  "foolishness,"  and  who 
was  not  to  be  preached  "  with  wisdom  of  words,"  lest  His 
"  cross  should  be  made  of  none  effect ;"  while  here  he  speaks 
of  this  same  Christ  as  containiag  within  Him  all  the  infini- 
tude of  wisdom  and  of  knowledge.  The  Christ  whose  Gospel 
was  invested  with  the  simplicity  of  infancy,  was  yet,  it 
seems,  the  fountain  of  a  wisdom  deep  as  eternity;  the  preach- 
ing of  His  truth  was  to  be,  like  Himself,  at  once  lowly  and 
divine.  It  was  to  be  a  light  which  "  the  darkness  compre- 
hendeth  not,"  valued  not;  and  yet  a  "marvellous  light,"  on 
which  angels  shrank  as  they  gazed.  "  Little  children"  were 
to  know  it,  and  rejoice  in  it,  and  bless  it ;  the  sage  of  eighty 
winters  was  to  reject  it  in  perplexity,  or  distrust,  or  con- 
tempt. And  as  it  thus  began,  so,  there  was  little  doubt, 
thus  it  was  to  continue.  Through  all  its  earthly  fortunes 
it  was  to  meet  an  irreconcilable  antagonist  in  that  spurious 
wisdom  it  deposed.  Pride  in  Adam  originally  made  its 
revelation  necessary ;  pride  in  the  sons  of  Adam  was  to  be 
its  everlasting  foe.  "  The  foolishness  of  God"  was  indeed 
far  "  wiser  than  men ;"  but  to  the  mass  of  men  it  was  to  be 
"  foolishness"  still.  The  "  treasures  of  wisdom  and  know- 
ledge" were  to  be  in  Christ,  but,  as  the  text  emphatically 
has  it,  they  were  to  be  "  hid"  there. 

It  appears,  so  soon  was  the  trail  of  the  serpent  again 
visible  in  the  Paradise  of  God,  that  these  Colossians,  to 
whom  St  Paul  wrote  this  sentence,  required  some  admoni- 
tion upon  these  points.  As  the  first  Churches  had  many 
advantages  over  us,  so,  it  is  not  to  be  denied,  they  had 
some  disadvantages  too.  Visited  by  Apostles,  yet  Apos- 
tles could  not  always  abide  with  them ;  and,  in  many  in- 
stances, we  may  conclude  that  at  this  very  early  period 


SERM.  XVII.]  Wisdom  and  Knowledge.  281 

their  regular  ministry  was  but  partly  filled,  and  their  ec- 
clesiastical organization  still  imperfect,  ^fhe  Holy  Spirit 
might  be  active  in  supplying  these  deficiencies;  but  the 
laws  of  spiritual  agency  are  mysterious ;  and  we  know  not 
how  often  the  moral  failures  of  Churches  may  have,  in 
anger,  suspended  these  preternatural  blessings.  Nor  had 
they  always  the  ready  and  easy  appeal  to  written  docu- 
ments, containing  the  plan  and  substance  of  the  faith, 
which  we  possess.  And  thus,  though  in  all  the  main  fea- 
tures of  the  truth  it  is  wholly  beyond  doubt  they  kept  the 
faith,  and  in  their  creeds  transmitted  it, — creeds  which  all 
resemble,  and  bespeak  a  common  and  sacred  origin, — 
though,  in  the  great  outlines  of  doctrine  and  discipline, 
they  are,  as  they  advanced  to  their  full  development,  the 
acknowledged  model  of  our  own  Church,  and  worthy  to  be 
so,  and  though  heresy,  at  worst,  could  be  but  temporary 
and  occasional,  resisted  as  it  ordinarily  was  by  the  indig- 
nant denunciation  of  the  local  authorities,  or  of  the  Church 
at  large, — yet  the  vigor  which  could  suppress  heresy  could 
not  always  prevent  its  entrance.  "  We  have  entered  into 
the  labors"  of  these  blessed  communities;  we  possess  the 
faith  they  kept,  we  possess  the  ministry  they  transmitted ; 
but,  while  we  thus  enjoy  the  results,  we  cannot  know  the 
conflict  they  often  endured  to  preserve  to  us  this  precious 
inheritance. 

It  is  certain  that,  in  many  matters  affecting  the  new  re- 
ligion, tempting  opportunities  were  afibrded  to  ambitious 
teachers  for  perverting  inexperienced  minds;  and  it  is  a 
melancholy  fact  that  there  are  few  of  the  Pauline  epistles 
that  do  not  intimate,  in  his  Apostolic  absences,  intrusions 
of  the  errors  he  had  discountenanced,  unauthorized  teach- 
ings, and  personal  dissensions.  The  particular  errors  which 
he  rebukes  may,  like  their  unhappy  authors,  have  disap- 
peared; having  no  root  in  the  comnion  mass  and  deposit 
of  the  faith,  they  may  have  decayed  and  dropped  from  the 
tree  they  incumbered,  and  left  to  us  the  simple  proportions 

24* 


282  Christ  the  Treasury  of  [sek:\i.  xvil. 

of  the  trutli  of  Christ :  but  we  know  too  well  that  the  spirit 
which  originated  these  devices  has  not  vanished.  It  has 
assumed  new  forms  suitable  to  a  new  scene  of  action.  The 
Church  of  Christ,  though  promised  arr  existence  immortal, 
is  also  promised  an  existence  of  conflict ;  it  must  live,  but 
only  by  fighting  for  life ;  and,  surely,  this  age  of  ours  does 
not  seem  likely  to  disappoint  the  prediction,  or  to  leave 
the  servants  of  the  living  God  without  an  adversary  to 
meet  and  to  resist. 

Now  the  one  point  in  which  these  pretended  enlighteners 
of  the  Christian  community,  in  St  Paul's  day,  all  agreed, 
which  formed  the  badge  of  their  calling,  their  pride  and 
boast,  was,  we  can  collect,  the  profession  of  "wisdom." 
This  was  the  ground  on  which  they  challenged  universal 
attention,  and  in  comparison  with  which  they  depreciated 
the  apostolic  teaching  as  cold  and  unsatisfactory.  We  can 
gather  this  from  the  very  letter  before  us.  The  Apostle 
had  previously  prayed  that  they  "  might  be  filled  with 
the  knowledge  of  God's  will  in  all  wisdom,"  and  declared 
that  he  "preached  Christ,  warning  every  man  and  teaching 
every  man  in  all  wisdom ;"  and  in  the  words  that  follow 
the  text  we  discover  the  reason  of  these  forms  of  phrase. 
"This,  I  say,"  he  adds  to  his  proclamation  of  the  wisdom 
to  be  found  in  Christ,  "  lest  any  man  should  heguile  you  with 
enticing  words."  "  Beware  lest  any  man  spoil  you  through 
philosophy  and  vain  deceit,"  by  seducing  your  simplicity 
into  tenets  and  practices  "  which  have  a  show  of  ivisdomr 
The  object  of  these  perpetual  references  to  the  attainment 
of  "wisdom  and  knowledge"  cannot,  then,  be  mistaken. 
Pretences  were  abroad  in  this  little  society,  which  it  was 
necessary  to  denounce  and  counteract.  The  sages  of  this 
Colossian  congregation  thought  they  could  not  confer  a 
greater  blessing  on  society,  than  by  suiting  to  the  spirit  of 
the  age  a  revelation  somewhat  too  rude  for  men  of  reflec- 
tion and  experience.  The  gold  of  heaven's  own  sanctuary 
might  be  advantageously  refined,  as  they  thought.     It  was 


SERM.  XVII.]  Wisdom,  and  Knowledge.  283 

God  Himself  had  come  from  heaven  with  His  restorative, 
but  these  instructors  thought  that  perhaps  the  remedy 
might  be  made  yet  more  effective  by  a  little  earthly  quali- 
fication. Now,  as  far  as  we  can  collect  from  the  record 
before  us,  these  improvements  seem  to  have  been  of  two 
kinds.  I  name  them,  because  they  distinctly  mark  the  two 
principal  paths,  by  which  the  wisdom  of  this  world  has 
ever  proceeded  in  corrupting,  or  in  practically  superseding, 
the  Gospel  of  Jesus  Christ,  as  orginally  held,  preached,  and 
transmitted  by  His  Church.  The  most  active  of  these 
teachers  (if  we  may  conjecture  the  degree  of  their  mischie- 
vous activity  by  the  space  the  Apostle  devotes  to  them) 
inclined  to  superstitious  additions^ — to  a  religion  more  diver- 
sified, romantic,  and  minute,  than  the  Gospel  supplied, — 
to  the  worship  of  angels,  to  the  ritual  observances  of  the 
Jews  (chap.  ii.  16 — 18,  &c.)  But  something  of  a  different 
kind  is  probably  meant,  when  the  Apostle  warns  his  chil- 
dren against  those  "enticing  words,"  that  "philosophy  and 
vain  deceit,"  with  which  their  inexperience  was,  or  would 
be,  assailed.  Here  we  discover  the  effort,  not  so  much  to 
multiply  the  observances  of  religion,  as  to  refine  all  religion 
into  a  dreamy  mysticism,  or  (for  the  same  root  of  bitterness 
has  a  new  offshoot  for  every  age)  into  whatever  other  way 
of  thought  characterized  the  prevailing  speculation  of  the 
day.  What  was  then  a  cold,  unpractical  mysticism  would 
now  be  as  cold  and  heartless  a  devotion  to  what  worldly 
men  call  the  "substantial  goods"  of  life.  But  the  enlight- 
eners  of  that  day,  and  the  enlighteners  of  this  are  brethren. 
Both  alike  would  sacrifice  to  the  received  wisdom  of  the 
time,  that  "everlasting  Gospel"  which  is  of  no  time,  or 
rather  of  all  times,  because  it  addresses  itself  to  a  nature 
unchanged  in  its  wants  and  its  weakness  from  the  hour  of 
the  Fall  to  the  hour  of  "the  new  heaven  and  the  new 
earth." 

It  is,  then,  against  such  delusive  idols  as  these,  whether 
substitutions  for  the  truth  or  corruptions  of  it,  that  our 


28i  Clirist  the  Treasury  of  [seem.  XVII. 

Apostle,  in  this  memorable  passage,  erects  the  banner  of 
the  cross,  the  preaching  and  teaching  of  that  simple  but 
all-sufficing  Gospel,  which  he  was  commissioned  to  declare; 
beyond  which  (in  his  own  expressive  phrase)  he  "deter- 
mined to  know  nothing,"  and  in  comparison  with  whose 
"  excellency  of  knowledge,"  he  had  learned  to  count  all  as 
loss  and  refuse.  It  is  the  same  cause  in  which  I  have  to 
animate  you  ;  for  the  time  demands  these  warnings.  The 
supremacy  of  this  truth  is  again  virtually  disclaimed,  its 
paramount  authority  again  questioned.  The  position  and 
claims  of  the  faith  of  Christ  to  stand  as  the  fundamental 
element  in  national  advancement, — the  claims  of  the 
Church  of  Christ,  the  witness  and  depositary  of  that  faith, 
to  be  recognized  as  the  nation's  organ  of  moral  education, 
— if,  as  I  rejoice  to  think,  they  are  received  and  appreciated 
by  a  growing  number  among  us,  are  still  but  too  faintly 
felt  by  many.  The  truth,  which  had  once  to  contend, 
against  an  over-fond  and  superstitious  devotion,  has  now  to 
contend,  with  equal  anxiety,  against  a  cold  and  carnal  self- 
ishness. Men  have  again  learned  to  think  that  this  sacred 
deposit,  this  awful  representative  of  God  in  the  world,  may, 
without  a  crime,  be  left  for  superstition  to  corrode,  or  infi- 
delity to  neglect;  that  this  truth,  for  which  Christ  died,  is, 
after  all,  but  an  incidental  adjunct  to  the  formation  of  the 
mind  of  a  people ;  that  they,  to  whom  God  has  given  the 
fearful  responsibility  of  dispensing  truth  or  falsehood 
among  millions,  may  abandon  all  effort  to  secure  the  publi- 
cation of  God's  message  among  a  dark  and  godless  popula- 
tion. It  is  not  with  the  ignorant  and  thoughtless  we  have 
to  deal,  when  we  undertake  as  Christ's  commissioned  ser- 
vants, to  repel  these  infatuations.  These  are  too  often  the 
theories  of  gifted  statesmen  and  laborious  thinkers ;  of  men 
who  profess  to  be  the  guides  of  their  brethren,  the  van- 
guard of  their  country's  intellect.  It  is  these,  "the  wise 
and  prudent,"  who  cannot  discover  either  "  wisdom  or 
knowledge"  in  the  mystery  of  Christ.     Nay,  these  are  even 


SERM.  XVII.]  Wisdom  and  Knoiuledge,  285 

the  most  liable  to  the  delusion !  The  dream  of  modern 
sophistry,  that  any  education  can  be  of  real  value,  in  a 
world  like  ours,  which  is  not  based  upon  definite  convic- 
tions as  to  the  world  beyond  it ;  that  trial  and  temptation 
can  be  met  and  resisted  out  of  the  armory  of  this  world's 
weak  and  shadowy  motives,  however  vain  the  dream  be, 
will  naturally  perhaps  be  most  cherished  by  those,  whoso 
station  has  allowed  them  to  refine  their  minds  by  earthly 
speculation,  and  who  keenly  relish  its  charms.  Or  whence 
else  is  it,  that  so  large  a  portion  of  the  influence,  and  pro- 
perty, and  even  virtue  of  these  lands,  can  look  abroad  over 
the  myriads  of  souls  that  God  has  virtually  set  in  their 
charge  through  the  extent  of  these  countries,  and  profess 
to  believe  them  created  for  eternity,  and  that  life  eternal  is 
only  "  to  know  the  true  God  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  He 
has  sent,"  and  yet  can,  without  a  struggle,  resign  this  high 
and  holy  conflict  for  the  truth,  to  which  they  are  by 
authority  of  station  summoned  ?  Do  I  exaggerate  when  I 
speak  of  men,  and  that  no  small  or  unimportant  class, 
among  whom  the  maxim  has  taken  its  place  as  authentic 
truth,  that  falsehood  may  be  rightfully  established,  encou- 
raged, and  endowed,  wherever  a  sufficient  number  of  vota- 
ries are  found  to  demand  it;  that  in  religion,  though  in 
nothing  else,  what  each  man  tlwihs  true  is  truth  to  him, 
and  invested  with  all  the  claims  and  attributes  that  belong 
to  the  very  message  bequeathed  by  Him  who  was  ^'•tlie 
truth  and  the  life."  Alas !  these  are  the  approved  axioms 
of  our  modern  systems  of  moral  training ;  of  "  wisdom  and 
knowledge"  they  speak  loudly,  but  little  and  vaguely  of 
Him,  in  whom  "  their  treasures  are  hid^ 

Against  these  perversions,  I  repeat, — against  these,  which 
are  but  modern  forms  of  that  old  Colossian  spirit,  that 
strove  to  be  wiser  than  the  wisdom  of  God ;  against  these 
theories  of  national  illumination,  which  mask  indolence 
and  indifference  in  the  guise  of  charitable  liberality;  against 
these  it  is  your  duty  to  be  prepared  to  bear  a  prompt  and 


286  Christ  the  Treasury  of  [SERM.  XVIT. 

willing  testimony,  and,  wliere  the  means  have  been  organ- 
ized, as  among  you,^  to  make  that  testimony  practically 
available  for  your  poorer  brethren  in  Jesus  Christ.  To 
whatever  class  the  adversaries  of  Christian  education  be- 
long, whichever  section  of  the  Colossian  schismatics  they 
reflect,  be  prepared,  in  a  deep  and  intelligent  appreciation 
of  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  to  cherish  the  inestimable  bequest, 
and  to  discountenance  every  pretext  for  superseding  it, 
however  plausible.  You  may  do  much  to  rectify  the  pub- 
lic mind  upon  the  great  question  of  a  general  education  for 
the  entire  people  of  our  country  ;  but,  however  you  resolve 
that  problem,  no  doubt  can  cloud,  no  delay  should  be  suf- 
fered to  impede,  your  solicitude  to  fulfil  your  duty  to  the 
poorer  members  of  your  own  body.  It  is  their  privilege 
that  the  light  of  the  Gospel  is  as  free  to  them  as  the  light 
of  the  day ;  nothing,  then,  remains  to  prevent  their  education 
from  being  eminently  the  education  of  Christian  disciples, 
but  the  backwardness  of  their  wealthier  brethren.  Shame 
would  it  be  if,  in  any  district  of  our  land,  this  backward- 
ness were  evinced,  at  such  a  crisis  and  such  a  call  1  1  can- 
not give  you  dispositions,  I  can  only  give  you  reasons.  •  I 
cannot  make  you  joj^ful  in  the  truth  of  Christ,  or  resolute 
to  support  and  spread  it;  these  graces  are  in  the  gift  of  God 
alone ;  but  I  can  tell  you,  with  my  inspired  author,  of  the 
glory  of  this  truth,  of  its  pervading  power,  and  its  boundless 
extent ;  how  it  is  a  very  and  literal  certainty,  that  "  in  it 
are  hidden  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom,"  for  that,  varied  as 
are  the  departments  of  human  thought,  this  knowledge  of 
the  mystery  of  God  in  Christ  embraces  all,  and  fills  all,  and 
vivifies  all,  and  exalts  all.  This  is  what  makes  it  para- 
mount in  education,  and  us  urgent  in  pressing  it;  this  alone 
makes  us  "  partakers  of  the  divine  nature :''  all  education 
without  it  leaves  man  the  animal  it  found  him !  We  up- 
hold the  fortunes  of  the  human  race,  when  we  demand  the^ 

'  Preached  in  the  parish-churcli  of  Leeds. 


SERM.  XVII.]  Wisdom  and  Knowledge.  287 

Gospel  for  our  children ;  it  is  the  true  civilizer,  this  revela- 
tion of  Jesus.  Apart  from  it,  what  is  ordinary  civilization, 
but  a  variety  of  corruption  and  maturer  sagacity  in  evil  ? 
Apart  from  it,  what  is  human  science?  But  let  the  Apos- 
tle's own  reasonings  reply  to  that  question,  for  on  it  his 
words  directly  turn.  Bear  with  me  for  a  moment  farther, 
then,  if  you  would  estimate  the  predominant  position  of 
Christian  instruction  in  relation  to  all  that  rivals  it;  if  you 
would  be  supporters  of  Gospel  education  from  fixed  and 
clear  conviction. 

When  the  Apostle  spoke  of  the  wisdom  hid  in  Christ, 
he  meant  by  "wisdom"  just  what  his  adversaries  meant, 
that  is,  the  knowledge  of  man  in  those  sublime  relations 
that  connect  him  with  God  and  God's  universal  plan.  Now 
this  is  a  sort  of  knoAvledge,  to  which  everything  may  be 
expected  to  contribute  some  remote  and  faint  light ;  but 
the  point  here  to  be  observed  is,  that  the  Revelation  of 
Christ  Jesus,  alone  and  unaided,  flashes  a  beam  of  splendor 
upon  it,  in  which  all  others  are  lost  and  disappear.  Xor 
this  only,  but  as  all  knowledge  is  mainly  valuable  as  it 
helps  our  efforts  for  this  last  and  mightiest  knowledge  of 
ourselves  and  God,  so  when  this  is  attained,  through  virtue 
of  the  Christian  truth,  it,  in  its  turn,  radiates  back,  upon 
all  the  departments  of  knowledge,  a  new  and  blessed  light. 
And  thus  the  Revelation  of  Christ  not  merely  teaches  us, 
in  itself,  a  series  of  truths  of  inexpressible  importance,  and 
without  it  wholly  unattainable,  but  it  also,  as  a  great  central 
discovery,  harmonizes  all  our  beliefs,  sacred  and  secular, 
binds  them  together  as  its  own  servants,  gives  them  a  new 
interest,  and  position,  and  coloring,  and  dignifies  the  pursuit 
of  them  as  a  labor  in  the  very  cause  of  God  Himself, — 
begun  and  prosecuted  with  a  view  to  His  glory, — for  to 
know  the  beauty  of  the  temple  is  to  know  the  glory  of  the 
architect.  And  hence,  so  far  are  we  who  advocate  the 
Revelation  of  Christ  as  the  basis  of  education,  from  (as 
our  slanderers  have  it)  restricting  or  dreading  the   free 


288  Christ  the  Treasury  of  [serm.  xvii. 

searcli  of  natural  knowledge,  that,  on  the  contrary,  when 
once  the  corner-stone  has  been  fixed  in  our  foundation,  we 
exult  in  a  science  and  a  philosophy  that  is  subservient  to 
the  faith  of  Christ ;  we  hail  every  bright  discovery  as  a 
new  tribute  to  the  creating  and  redeeming  Grod  whom  we 
adore.  Let  but  the  Son  of  Righteousness  reign  in  the 
centre  of  the  soul,  and  we  know  that  every  element  of 
inferior  knowledge  will  dispose  itself  to  revolve  harmoni- 
ously around  it ! 

Here,  then,  you  can  catch  (in  a  large  and  general  sense) 
the  Apostle's  meaning,  w^hen  he  said  that  "  the  treasures  of 
wisdom  and  knowledge"  were  laid  up  in  the  faith  of  Christ. 
He  meant  that  all  true  wisdom  centred  in  this  faith,  and 
that  all  else  was  wise  or  wisdom-giving,  only  as  this  faith 
pervaded,  and  brightened,  and  hallowed  it. 

But  draw  nearer  yet  to  the  subject.  What  are  the  ob- 
jects of  all  human  inquiry  ?  Man  investigates  nature;  man 
investigates  himself;  man  rises  from  both  to  the  Author 
of  both,  and  inquires  the  nature  and  attributes  of  God. 
Confine  him  to  each,  of  these,  as  matter  of  direct  experi- 
mental inquiry  and  observation,  and  see  what  progress  he 
will  make  towards  that  wisdom,  which  tells  him  his  duties 
and  his  destinies.  I  speak  of  the  mass  of  mankind,  of  the 
average  man ;  for  it  is  with  such  our  educational  measures 
have  to  deal. 

Place  your  pupil,  then,  in  front  of  the  vast  edifice  of 
nature.  Bid  him  enter  its  doors  and  survey  its  chambers ; 
it  is  the  glory  of  our  age  that  he  is  enabled  to  such  extent 
to  do  so.  Show  him  the  marvels  of  the  structure,  teach 
him  how  to  classify  all  the  varieties  of  this  wonderful 
museum ;  but  show  him,  teach  him  nothing  more.  Can 
it  be  questioned  that  the  conclusion  will  forcibly  strike 
him,  that  so  much  design  must  have  a  designer ;  that  a 
care  so  constant  betokens  a  presiding  Providence  ;  that  if 
such  a  Being  exist,  he  is,  doubtless,  one  to  whom  subjection 
is  rightfully  due?     Can  it  be  questioned?     Brethren!  it 


SERM.  XVII.]  Wmlom  and  Kriowled'jc.  289 

can  bo  questioned,  and  that  in  no  petulant  spirit,  but  in 
melancholy  conviction.  These  conclusions  are  to  us  so 
elementary  and  perpetual, — the  Church  herself,  nay,  the 
everlasting  traditions  of  human  reason,  so  constantly  im- 
press them, — that  we  forget  they  were  never  our  own  con- 
clusions, however  evident  when  proposed.  But  suppose  I 
grant  that  an  average  mind  (and  that  too  upon  average 
attainments  in  the  science  of  nature)  will,  without  assistance, 
make  these  deductions,  will  yet  their  light  be  clear  enough, 
their  force  strong  enough,  to  form  permanent  principles  of 
action?  Let  the  experience  of  all  ages,  nations,  and 
tongues  answer  the  question.  And,  then,  above  all,  icliat 
is  it  your  deductions  have  established?  The  being,  the 
power,  and  the  skill  of  God.  Convictions  awful  indeed, 
but  cold  and  repelling !  Convictions  that  never  yet  won 
the  heart  of  man ;  and  yet  the  heart  is  the  sole  empire  in 
which  God  will  condescend  to  reign.  Do  I,  then,  affirm 
that  we  cannot  discover  the  goodness  also  of  the  Supreme 
in  His  work  of  creation  ?  Nay,  I  profess  to  thank  Him 
for  our  "  creation,  preservation,  and  all  the  blessings  of  this 
life ;"  but  I  rise  beyond  them  to  "  the  means  of  grace  and 
the  hope  of  glory,"  because  I  feel  these  to  be  indeed  the 
sources  of  a  gratitude  which  earthly  changes,  however 
sudden  or  afflictive,  cannot  take  away ;  and  I  rejoice  in  the 
consoling  thought,  because  I  well  know  that  the  vexing- 
bitternesses  of  this  life  are  (to  our  imperfect  nature)  pow- 
erful enough  to  crush  too  often  our  best  efforts  at  gratitude, 
Avere  we  dependent  on  the  light  of  nature  alone  for  our 
grounds  of  love.  A  single  finger  held  near  the  eye  will 
hide  half  the  heavens ;  a  single  misfortune  near  the  heart 
will  hide  all  the  earthly  evidences  of  divine  beneficence. 
But  a  God  made  known  in  Christ  crucified^ — give  us,  O 
heavenly  Spirit !  but  a  firm  faith  in  this,  and  no  earthly 
visitation  can  shake  our  confidence  in  His  love !  Afflic- 
tions may,  for  a  moment,  cloud  our  apprehensions  of  the 
divine  mercy,  but  there  is  an  evidence  in  that  one  awful 
25 


290  Christ  the  Treasury  of  [SERM.  XVII. 

fact,  the  God  condemned  for  man, — that  must  triumph. 
over  every  temporary  obscuration,  re-assume  its  placid 
empire  in  the  soul,  and  restore  the  trembling  Christian  to 
his  Lord  again. 

But  come,  bring  your  pupil,  your  Gospel-deprived  pupil, 
from  the  outward  to  the  inward  world ;  set  Mm  to  explore 
his  own  heart,  and  to  find  his  duties  and  his  hopes  there ! 
Unfold  to  him  all  the  variety  of  his  powers  and  his  affec- 
tions ;  show  him  the  just  prerogatives  of  his  reason,  the 
due  subjection  of  the  inferior  nature.  Much  will  you  have 
done,  and  yet  little !  Much  will  you  have  furnished  to 
perplex,  but  no  light  at  all  towards  a  solution !  A  nature 
so  sublime,  so  debased, — with  such  occasional  perceptions 
of  good,  such  perpetual  tendencies  to  evil, — how  shall  he 
know  whither  to  turn  in  this  chaos  ?  Above  all,  how  shall 
he  know  the  right,  when  there  is  that  within  him  which 
perpetually  urges  him  to  love  the  wrong  ?  Can  the  judg- 
ment be  trusted  when  the  passions  are  ever  ready  to  betray 
it  ?  What  is  the  reason  of  most  men  but  a  special  pleader 
to  the  passions,  a  hired  advocate  ready  to  justify  whatever 
they  have  predetermined  ?  A  fixed  standard,  independent 
of  these  variations,  we  must  have ;  that  standard  is,  and  is 
only,  in  the  Gospel  of  Jesus!  You  would  tell  your  pupil 
why  man  is  evil,  and  yet  the  mysterious  child  of  eternal 
hopes  ?  Cast  aside  your  pompous  pretences  of  an  educa- 
tion independent  of  the  Gospel ;  place  before  the  immortal 
being  for  whom  you  are  prescribing,  a  page  of  the  story  of 
Paradise  for  the  one,  the  death  and  victory  over  Death,  of 
the  Saviour,  for  the  other ;  and  one  lesson  will  have  taught 
him  more  than  years  of  ineffective  inqu.iry. 

We  have  searched  nature;  we  find  her  dumb  until  the 
Gospel  of  Christ  give  her  a  mouth  and  utterance  :  we  have 
sought  this  hidden  wisdom  in  the  heart  of  man,  and  found 
no  response,  or  none  worth  a  pause,  till  the  same  Gospel 
tells  us  the  history  of  that  heart,  its  fall  and  its  restoration : 
shall  we  now  direct  our  ungospelled  pupil  to  dream  of  God^ 


SERM.  XVII.]  Wisdom  and  Knowledge.  291 

and  find  his  "wisdom"  in  his  dreams?  But  I  refrain  from 
even  the  supposition.  A  voice  beyond  man  bids  me  resign 
the  theme,  an  oracle  from  the  sanctuary  that  supersedes  all 
discussion.  "  Jesus  saith,  /am  the  way ....  No  man  cometh 
to  the  Father  but  by  me."  "  No  man  hath  see7i  God  at  any 
time  ;  the  only -begotten  Son,  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,  He  hath  declared  Him."  This  suffices.  You  may 
demonstrate  a  First  Cause,  and  call  Him,  if  you  please,  the 
Monarch  of  the  Universe;  but  the  knowledge  of  God,  as 
God  is,  is  in  Christ  alone.  And  amid  all  the  boasts  of  an 
arrogant  age,  amid  its  pretences  to  penetrate  unauthorized 
into  the  very  courts  of  God,  it  is  still  our  blessed  belief,  the 
spring  and  support  of  our  exertions,  that  "  God  who  com- 
manded the  light  to  shine  out  of  darkness^  hath  shined  in 
our  heart,  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  face  of  Jesus  GhristP^  There  alone  we  profess 
to  find  it ;  there  alone  we  would  bid  those,  who  ask  us  the 
way  to  God,  to  seek  it  and  be  happy. 


SERMON  XVIII. 

THE  DIVINITY  OF  OUR  PEIEST,  PROPHET,  AND  KING. 

(Preached  on  Ti-inity  Sunday,  before  the  University  of  Duhlin.) 
God  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself. — 2  Corinthians  v.  19. 

The  Cliristian  Cliiirch,  by  immemorial  usage,  and  on  the 
justest  principles,  appropriating  distinct  days  to  the  special 
consideration  of  each  of  the  leading  elements  of  our  belief, 
invites  us,  upon  this  occasion,  to  reflect  upon  the  loftiest  of 
them  all, — upon  a  doctrine  which  (as  if  to  force  upon  us 
the  immeasurable  advantages  of  Kevelation,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  intimations  of  the  natural  faculties)  is  at 
once  placed  beyond  the  discovery,  perhaps  even  beyond 
the  conjectures,  of  Keason,  and,  at  the  same  time,  when 
once  known,  becomes  discernibly  the  central  point  of  our 
whole  system  of  religious  beliefs,  around  which  the  rest 
group  themselves  in  natural  arrangement,  and  deprived  of 
which  they  seem  to  lose  their  presiding  principle,  their 
collective  symmetrj^,  and  their  relative  order.  Happy 
would  it  be,  if,  on  an  occasion  such  as  this,  it  were  permitted 
us,  forgetting  all  the  cavils  which  the  fevered  restlessness 
of  a  too  ambitious  ignorance  has  perpetually  raised  against 
the  mysteries  of  God,  to  resign  ourselves  wholly  to  the 
feelings  which  the  simple  reception  of  the  truth  brings 
with  it ;  and  as  we  reflect,  to  know  by  the  same  testimony 
of  inward  consciousness,  that  they  are  deceived,  who  tell 
us  that  this  is  a  doctrine  which,  even  if  conceded  to  be 


SERM.  XVIIL]     The  Divinity  of  our  Priest,  etc.  293 

true,  is  barren  of  prcactical  fruit,  isolated  from  the  Christian 
life  and  experience.  Of  a  truth,  they  who  dwell  in  the 
light  of  this  belief,  when  they  drop  into  the  dead  world  of 
common  life,  might  well  be  as  men  whose  upward  eyes 
have  been  too  dazzled  with  the  brightness  of  the  heavens 
to  discern  the  objects  and  relations  of  earth.  Such  eleva- 
tion is  in  itself  high  and  holy ;  but  let  us  remember  that 
there  are  few  or  no  merely  contemplative  abstractions 
among  the  truths  which  God  has  thought  fit  to  reveal  to 
His  Church.  The  speculative  doctrine  is.  in  this  instance, 
met  by  a  practical  counterpart,  mysterious  indeed  as  itself, 
yet  of  deep  and  daily  interest  to  every  regenerate  soul. 
As  that  Godhead,  which  was  substantially  one  with  the 
Father  and  the  Spirit,  hath  entered  into  fellowship  with  the 
human  nature,  so  are  we  invited  to  a  corresponding  fellow- 
ship with  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit.  These  are 
the  two  terms, — and  the  necessary  terms, — of  the  mystic 
intercourse  of  heaven  and  earth.  This  is  the  inheritance, 
sealed  to  every  believing  soul,  that  in  it  should  abide  these 
three  mysterious  agents ;  and  that  in  our  union  specially 
with  the  Son,  as  in  His  specially  with  us,  should  be  vir- 
tually involved  the  union  with  the  Father  and  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Thus  are  we,  through  that  blending  of  the  human 
and  divine  in  Christ  (and  even  natural  reason  in  its  calmer 
hours  might  apprehend  that  thence  only  could  the  won- 
drous object  be  effected),  introduced  into  the  very  presence 
of  Deity  in  all  its  aspects ;  incorporated,  as  it  were,  with 
the  Godhead ;  "  partakers,"  in  the  Apostle's  language,  "  of 
the  divine  nature ;  and  immortalized  hereafter  in  glory  by 
that  eternal  essence  thus  mystically  united  to  our  own. 

The  assumption  of  humanity  by  the  divine  Substance  in 
its  second  Person,  is,  then,  the  fact  or  doctrine  which 
makes  the  rernoter  mystery  of  the  Trinity  of  practical  im- 
portance to  us ;  and  on  this  subject  specially  I  shall  endea- 
vor, this  morning,  to  fix  your  attention.  The  general 
question  of  the  Trinity  divides  into  the  characters  of  divin- 

25- 


29i  The  Divinity  of  our  [SERM.  XVIII. 

ity  and  of  personality,  as  attributable  to  each  of  tlie  three 
Persons.  With  respect  to  the  Father,  hoth  divinity  and 
personality  are  conceded  by  all  who  profess  to  call  on  His 
adorable  name.  As  regards  the  Son  and  the  Spirit,  the 
case  is  reciprocally  reversed.  Of  the  Son  of  God  (as  mani- 
festly one  Avith  the  "Son  of  Man")  the  personality  is 
granted,  and  the  divinity  denied ;  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  on  the 
contrary,  the  divinitj^  is  usually,  in  some  sense,  granted 
(when  He  is  considered  as  an  attribute  or  influence  of  God), 
and  the  distinct  personality  refused.  I  ma}^,  perhaps,  con- 
clude that  many  of  the  topics  that  concern  the  latter  ques- 
tion Avere,  either  directly  or  indirectly,  brought  before  you 
on  the  last  Sunday ;  and  this  exclusion,  with  the  admission, 
already  stated,  of  the  divinity  and  personality  of  the  Father, 
leaves,  as  my  more  immediate  subject,  the  union  of  a  true 
and  perfect  deity  with  the  human  nature  of  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

I  will  attempt,  on  this  occasion,  to  evince  that  there  is, 
apart  from  all  direct  scriptural  affirmations  of  the  divinity  of 
Christ,  an  antecedent  probability,  and  an  internal  evidence, 
of  the  reality  of  that  fact,  derivable  from  the  declared  pur- 
poses of  His  coming,  and  the  nature  of  His  religion, — 
amounting  nearly,  if  not  altogether,  to  absolute  moral 
certainty.  The  subject  is  of  such  extent,  that  w^ithin  the 
brief  compass  of  a  single  discourse  I  can  only  offer  a  few, 
and,  perhaps,  not  the  most  effective,  out  of  many  topics; 
selecting  rather  such  as  can  be  easily  and  compendiously 
expressed,  than  such  as  are  in  themselves  most  convincing  ; 
and  aware  that,  even  in  them,  I  shall  with  difficulty  escape 
the  imputation  of  obscurity. 

There  are  two  characters  in  Christ,  which,  as  they  are 
both  in  different  senses  divine^  it  is  proper  to  request,  at 
least,  my  younger  hearers  carefully  to  distinguish.  On  the 
one  hand  is  the  essential  divinity  of  the  eternal  Son  of 
God;  on  the  other,  the  Spirit  of  God  actuating  His  hu- 
manitv.     It  was  bv  this  latter  af^encv  that  tlie  Christ,  or 


SEKM.  xviri.]       Priest,  Proj-Jict,  and  Kinrj.  295 

Anointed  One,  was  duly  inaugurated  to  all  His  mediatorial 
offices ;  and  we  find  it  perpetually  present  with  Him,  and 
influential  during  his  whole  earthly  career.  God  "gave 
not  the  Spirit  by  measure  to  Ilim  ;"  and  it  is  in  these  spirit- 
ual influences  that  His  Church,  or  body,  is  said  to  share, 
we  "  receiving  of  Ilis  fulness,"  and  "  grace  for  grace,"  that 
is,  a  grace  corresponding  in  its  own  degree  to  every  grace 
in  Ilim;  the  mission  of  this  Spirit  to  those  who  believe  on 
Him,  being,  however,  an  exercise  of  power  itself,  doubt- 
less, divine. 

Now  this  Spirit  which,  miraculously  accomplishing  the 
Incarnation  of  the  Son  of  God,  dwelt  in  Him,  and  constitut- 
ed Him  the  Christ,  is  declared  by  type,  prediction,  and  our 
Lord's  assertions,  to  have  qualified  Him  for  three  principal 
offices, — the  priestly,  the  prophetical,  and  the  regal.  Daniel 
prophesies  the  ^'•anointing  of  the  Most  Holy,"  Avho  was  to 
be  "  cut  off,  not  for  himself  f^  and  David,  "  the  Priest  after" 
the  eternal  "  order ;"  Christ  Himself  applies  the  prediction 
that  "the  Spirit  hath  anointed  Him  to  ipreach-p  and  the 
second  Psalm  declares  Him  "  the  Kinf^  set  by  God  upon 
His  holy  hill  of  Zion.  These  functions  make  up  the  medi- 
atorial character,  as  far  as  it  is  given  to  us  to  understand 
it ;  and  in  the  exercise  of  these  he  was  unquestionably  hu- 
man. My  object  is  to  show,  that  He  could  not  have  been 
competent  to  any  one  of  tliem,  unless  deity  was,  in  the  most 
absolute  and  literal  reality,  combined  with  the  inferior  na- 
ture, in  the  single  person  of  the  Mediator  between  God  and 
man. 

The  text  states  that  "  God  was  in  Christ,  reconciling  the 
vjorld  to  Himself;''^  and  our  first  consideration  shall  dwell 
on  Him  in  His  character  of  reconciling  priest.  The  argu- 
ment I  shall  now  submit  has,  since  I  was  first  capable  of 
contemplating  such  subjects  impressed  my  own  mind  with 
an  evidence  which  I  cannot  call  less  than  demonstrative. 

It  is,  indeed,  disputed  how  far  moral  subjects  are  pro- 
perly snsce])til^lc  of  demnnsf ration.     V>\\t  if  <lemonstration 


296  The  Divmity  of  our  [seem,  xviil. 

consist  in  evolving  from  previous  suppositions  all  which 
these  suppositions  contain,  there  is  no  valid  reason  why  it 
should  not  be  applicable  to  these  notions ;  for  these  notions 
unquestionably  do  involve  relations  admitted  by  all  unpre- 
judiced minds  the  instant  they  are  expressed;  and  I  have 
little  doubt  the  admission  would  be  universal,  if  the  ideas 
in  question  could  be  detained  in  steady  clearness  before  the 
judging  faculty,  pure  from  the  corrupting  influences  of  ha- 
bit and  of  prejudice.  The  facility  of  obtaining  the  idea, 
thus  pure  from  foreign  and  adulterated  admixture,  is  the 
great  advantage  of  the  ordinary  demonstrative  sciences,  but 
does  not  constitute  them  exclusively  demonstrative.  And, 
however  we  may  determine  about  other  departments  of 
moral  inquiry,  this  seems  evident  in  all  speculations  con- 
cerning the  just  or  obligatory,  in  which  reason  takes  the 
whole  matter  into  her  own  hands  independent  of  all  induc- 
tions from  fact;  or,  if  she  does  descend  into  the  world  of 
fact,  descends  there  only  to  apply  authoritatively  her  own 
pre-established  formulas. 

If  in  our  moral  deductions  concerning  earthly  relations, 
we  can  attain  this  determinate  conviction,  still  more  forcibly 
may  it  be  anticipated,  when  we  transfer  our  meditations  to 
the  divine  attributes.  For  here,  passing  into  the  very 
sphere  of  the  Infinite  itself,  all  qualifications,  limitations, 
and  allowances  cease.  Here,  bare  abstract  excellence  is 
realized  and  in  action ;  and  therefore  here,  if  anywhere,  we 
may  confidently  rely  upon  the  deductions  of  the  moral  rea- 
son, certain  that  they  cannot  but  be  carried  out  in  the 
events  of  the  divine  administration,  even  though  we  see  not 
how. 

From  a  common  confusion  of  ideas,  an  objection  may 
here  be  anticipated,  appearing  in  some  such  shape  as  this, 
"that  we  have  no  right  to  apply  our  poor  faculties  to  pro- 
nounce on  things  regarding  God."  To  such  an  objection, 
first,  if  it  imply  that  we  can  know  nothing  of  the  moral 
character  of  God  apart  from  revelation,  it  may  be  sufficient 


SERM.  XVIII.]       Priest,  Prophet,  and  Klmj.  297 

to  oppose  the  express  denial  of  revelation  itself;  or  to 
evince  (which  might  be  easily  done)  that  this  supposition 
would  make  the  very  words  of  the  revelation  unintelligible, 
— those  words  which  involve  moral  notions,  which  suppose 
a  moral  capacity,  which  capacity  proclaims  the  character  of 
God ;  or,  finally,  to  waive  the  examination  of  the  objection 
altogether,  and,  whatever  becomes  of  it,  to  recur  to  the  full 
testimony  of  revelation,  which  declares  that  God  is  infi- 
nitely just,  and  wise,  and  good,  understanding  by  this  inji- 
nity,  that  no  exception  to  the  absolute  universality  of  these 
attributes  in  God,  except  whatever  may  be  demanded  by 
their  mutual  consistency,  ever  can,  by  any  possibility,  or 
in  any  circumstances,  occur.  But,  secondly,  if  the  objector 
mean  that,  though  we  may  be  certain  of  God's  moral  cha- 
racter, we  can  never  pronounce  in  ivliat  manner  it  is  to  he 
developed,  and,  therefore,  can  never  know  whether  a  certain 
set  of  facts  are  demanded  by  it  or  not,  on  account  of  un- 
known relations  that  may  reconcile  what  we  cannot  recon- 
cile,— I  answer,  that,  however  applicable  the  principle,  as  a 
general  one,  may  be,  we  have,  in  the  case  now  before  me, 
clear  and  ample  intimations  that  the  reconcilement  is 
effected,  luitkin  the  liinits  of  the  facts,  by  them,  and  by  no 
others  whatsoever. 

Now,  God  being,  in  the  sense  before  explained,  infinitely 
just  and  loving,  the  problem,  on  the  creation  of  a  free  being 
capable  of  transgression  and  transgressing,  was,  the  concili- 
ation of  both ;  and  to  the  fact  of  this  object  in  the  eternal 
counsels  Scripture  bears  constant  testimony,  were  it  only 
in  the  perpetual  use  of  legal  terms  of  condemnation  and 
acquittal  in  the  statement  of  our  condition  before  God,  Who 
is  declared  to  make  it  the  great  aim  of  His  work  in  Christ, 
that  lie  might  be  "just  and  yet  the  justifier."  That  this 
conciliation  is  naturally  necessary,  that  sin  deserves  punish- 
ment and  must  receive  it,  and  that  the  ofiice  of  perfect  love 
in  the  divine  being  can  never  be  to  hinder  or  eclipse  the 
activity  of  equally  perfect  justice,  is,  indeed,  questioned  by 


298  The  Divinity  of  OUT  [SEKM.  xviil. 

those  witli  wliom  we  have  to  do.  Accustomed  to  that 
system  of  compensation  and  compromise,  wliich  our  weak- 
nesses oblige  in  earthly  dispensations  of  retribution,  they 
dare  to  apply  the  necessities  of  our  frailty  to  the  omnipo- 
tent and  omniscient  mind.  But  as  there  is  no  limit  to  the 
possibility  of  wilful  denial,  we  can  neither  concede  this 
point  to  caprice,  nor  delay  at  present  among  all  the  fantastic 
varieties  of  objection.  Whether  we  regard  the  idea  of  law 
as  indispensably  including  sanction,  or  i\iQ  fact  of  desert  as 
a  feeling  of  every  rational  mind,  or  the  express  and  reiter- 
ated declarations  of  Scripture,  the  same  truth  emerges,  that 
the  moral  legislation  of  the  universe  (whose  upholder  and, 
as  it  were,  embodiment,  is  God)  inevitably  connects  sin 
and  punishment.  To  escape  the  conviction,  we  can  but 
recur  to  that  universal  scepticism,  which  denies  this  to  be 
certain,  in  denying  anything  to  be  certain  that  respects  the 
moral  character  or  government  of  God. 

The  demand  of  each  individual  conscience  is,  that  the 
punishment  be  undergone  by  the  criminal.  This  demand 
of  the  natural  reason  continues^  and,  in  continuing,  teaches 
the  value  and  the  mercy  of  the  pardon.  But  it  by  no  means 
renders  transference  of  punishment  impossible  or  incon- 
sistent ;  the  possibility  of  the  vicarious  transference  depend- 
ing, not  on  our  sense  of  desert,  but  on  the  secret  connection 
between  guilt  and  pain  in  the  mind  of  God  and  the  reason 
of  things.  If  this  connection  be  absolute  and  necessary^  trans- 
ference is  impossible ;  if  the  final  cause  of  punishment  be 
2:)Teventive^  transference  might  take  place  unless  a  better  pre- 
ventive could  be  found:  if,  furthermore,  to  "magnify  the 
law  and  make  it  honorable,"  punishment  may  be  transfer- 
able, unless  a  mode  more  effective  can  be  devised,  of  accom- 
plishing the  same  purpose  in  full  consistency  with  God's 
attribute  of  justice.  But  in  all  possible  cases  punishment  is 
not  superseded,  but  transferred ;  for  it  may  be  pronounced 
altogether  inconceivable,  that  the  law,  distinct  as  it  is,  and 
ever  must  be,  from  considerations  of  compassion,  could  be 


SERM.  XVIII.]       Priest,  Prophet,  and  King.  299 

satisfied  without  a  penalty  in  some  place,  at  some  time,  in 
some  manner,  undergone. 

Arrived  at  this  point,  I  open  the  page  of  revelation.  I 
there  find  all  my  gloomy  anticipations  verified.  I  find  this 
volume  (and  it  alone)  evermore  represent  God  as  the  imme- 
diate governor  of  man,  and  exacting,  with  rigorous  justice, 
the  service  of  body  and  soul.  I  find,  so  important  was  the 
impression  of  this  relation  between  God  and  man,  that 
many  hundred  years  of  the  history  of  mankind  were  de- 
voted to  acting  it  over  in  one  district  of  the  world,  to 
exhibiting,  in  colors  not  to  be  mistaken,  God's  demands 
and  man's  inability  to  fulfil  them.  I  find  tliis  long  and 
wondrous  history,  from  Moses  downwards,  declared  by  an 
inspired  interpreter  to  have  been  intended  as  a  preparatory 
exhibition  of  truths  universal  as  the  human  heart;  perpe- 
tual requirements  on  the  one  hand,  perpetual  incompetence 
on  the  other;  and  the  necessity  of  a  provision  for  the  con- 
ciliation of  both.  That  terrible  alliance  of  sin  and  punish- 
ment, which  natural  justice  had  already  proclaimed,  I  find 
everywhere  assumed  or  asserted  ;  but  I  find  more  than  this. 
That  transference  of  punishment,  which  I  had  only  dared 
to  hope  for,  is  repeatedly,  forcibly,  explicitly  declared;  and 
a  mysterious  Being,  whom  the  coldest  and  most  cursory 
inspection  cannot  deny  to  be  invested  with  attributes  of 
extraordinary  dignity, — a  Being  of  whom,  before,  and 
during,  and  after  His  appearance  among  us,  language  is 
used  which,  detached  from  the  context,  no  one  familiar 
with  the  jealous  caution  of  Scripture  phraseology  could 
hesitate  to  believe  applied  only  to  supreme  Deity, — such  a 
Being  as  this  is  revealed  as  the  voluntary  subject  of  the 
vengeance  of  ofiended  law. 

I  return  to  the  determinations  of  reason  once  more,  and 
I  ask  of  her,  what  was  the  nature,  and  what  the  dignity,  of 
the  Being  who  undertook  and  who  accomplished  such  an 
oflQce  as  this?  If  he,  indeed,  appeared  upon  the  stage  of 
the  world  to  solve,  in  His  own  person,  the  problem  of  justice 


300  Tlie  Divinity  of  our  [SERM.  xviil. 

made  consistent  with  pardon,  what  must  have  been  the 
position,  in  relation  to  the  law  itself,  of  the  Being  who 
could  triumphantly  effect  it;  who  could,  at  the  same  mo- 
ment, add  new  glories  to  the  moral  legislation  of  God,  and 
win  a  title  to  the  skies  for  the  ruined  race  that  had  violated, 
disgraced,  and  contemned  it? 

I  affirm  that  reason  replies,  that  every  scheme,  which 
does  not  suppose  the  Being  who  suffered  actually  indentical 
with  the  Being  whose  justice  demanded  the  sacrifice,  and 
whom  we  call  by  the  holy  name  of  God^  defeats  the  notion 
of  satisfaction,  and  not  only  leaves  the  attributes  of  infinite 
justice  and  infinite  love  unreconciled,  but  does  manifestly 
violate  them  both. 

To  state  the  case  in  the  briefest  form : — such  a  Being 
must  have  been  greater  than  God,  or  equal  with  God,  or 
inferior  to  God,  or,  finally,  God  Himself. 

The  two  first  suppositions  need  not  detain  us.  They 
are  easily  shown  to  be  self-contradictory,  and  will  not  be 
maintained  by  any  adversaries  with  whom  the  truth  of  God 
has  to  contest.  We  arrive  at  the  third  possible  suppo- 
sition, that  which  pronounces  the  law  satisfied  by  the  pun- 
ishment of  one  Himself  the  hounden  subject  of  the  law, — of  a 
law  which,  in  its  evangelical  promulgation,  commands  every 
man  to  be  ready  to  "  lay  down  his  life  for  the  brethren." 
Now  if  such  be  the  nature,  and  such  the  extent,  of  the  law 
of  God,  that  all  works  of  supererogation  are  manifestly 
impossible,  and  that  of  every  creature,  the  lowest  not  more 
than  the  highest,  it  may  with  equal  truth  be  said  that,  after 
he  has  done  all  that  he  ever  did  or  could  perform,  whether 
for  himself  or  others^  he  is  still  but  the  performer  of  his 
duty, — it  seems  necessarily  to  follow  that,  though  we  regard 
the  work  of  Christ  under  its  most  exalted  aspect,  it  was, 
were  Christ  simply  a  creature,  no  more  than  a  realization 
of  that  universal  law  of  love  under  which  every  created 
being  is  bound,  and  consequently  could  have  no  propitia- 
tory influence  beyond  Ilis  own  person ;   in  other  words, 


SERM.  XVllI.]       Priest^  Prq)hd,  and  Kinrj.  301 

that  even  He  fulfilled  but  His  duty  as  a  creature,  when  He 
"did  to  others  as  He  would  they  had  done  for  Him," 
This  argument  is  equally  applicable  through  every  stage 
of  created  being  unless  creation  be  wider  than  the  sove- 
reignty of  its  Creator's  law.  The  propitiatory  virtue  of 
Christ's  sacrifice  must,  therefore,  rest  altogether  upon  the 
dignity  of  His  person,  and  no  dignity  can  cover  the  con- 
ditions of  the  question,  until  we  reach  that  one  Beiiig^  over 
whom  is  no  superior,  and  to  whom  the  conception  of  duty 
to  any  object  above  Himself  ceases  to  be  applicable.  Our 
fourth  supposition  now  emerges,  and  the  sacrificing  priest 
of  the  New  Testament  is  discovered  to  be  ONE  with  the 
everlasting  God. 

As  regards  the  reconcilement  of  the  attributes,  the  sup- 
position is  equally  im.peachable,  which  exhibits  infinite 
justice  placing  the  burden  of  guilt  on  a  being  totally  dis- 
tinct from  Himself,  His  inferior,  and  absolutely  innocent ; 
and  which  exhibits  infinite  love  as  accepting  an  infliction 
of  pain,  which  (unless  we  question  the  divine  Omnipotence) 
could  manifestly  have  been  prevented  by  the  very  disposi- 
tion of  events  which  the  Christian  Church  receives.  And 
to  that  infinity  of  excellence  which  the  great  fact  itself  was 
professedly  meant  to  display,  and  to  which  the  least  excep- 
tion is  as  fatal  as  the  greatest,  the  defence  is  totally  nugatory, 
which  pleads  the  voluntary  nature  of  the  sacrifice  as  a  justi- 
fication of  its  acceptance  by  Him  who  is  substantial  love ; 
a  doctrine  which,  while,  on  the  one  hand,  it  practically  trans- 
fers the  whole  merit  of  the  act,  and  our  whole  gratitude  for 
its  performance,  from  God  to  the  man  or  angel  who  under- 
took to  be  our  champion,  on  the  other,  leaves  that  God  in 
the  strange  and  inadmissible  position  of  being  outdone  by 
His  own  creature  in  the  manifestation  of  His  own  noblest 
attribute,  at  the  most  critical  moment  of  its  exercise,  and  in 
a  dispensation  purposely  intended  to  display  it! 

Contemplating  Christ,  then,  in   His  priestly  character, 
these  propositions  appear  to  be  amply  ratified  by  reason ; 
26 


302  The  Divinity  of  our  [SERM.  XVIII. 

tlie  propriety  of  punishment,  tlie  possibility  of  transference, 
and  the  internal  necessity  that  the  satisfier  of  the  demands 
of  the  Law  should  Himself  be  one  with  its  Author,  its  Dis- 
penser, and  its  Judge.  From  Christ  the  Priest,  I  pass  to 
Christ  the  Prophet,  with  the  advantage  that  most  of  those 
who  deny  Him  as  the  Saviour  from  penalty,  will  at  least 
consent  to  admit  Him  as  the  legislator  and  revealer  of  duty. 
But  in  this,  no  less  than  the  former,  I  read  the  indelible  cha- 
racters, and  behold  .the  manifest  assumption,  of  deity ;  and 
though  He  had  never  declared  Himself  one  with  the  Father, 
or  accepted  the  unqualified  adoration  of  those  who  ap- 
proached Him,  or  heard  without  a  disclamation  the  in- 
credulous disciple's  confession  of  His  divinit}'', — I  could 
not  contemplate  His  own  position  in  the  Law  He  gave, 
without  knowing,  that  none  below  God  could  have  been 
the  Prophet  of  the  New  Testament ! 

The  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  as  the  principal  part  of  His  pro- 
phetic function,  came  to  confirm  the  luhole  law  of  God^  by  an 
ampler  revelation,  a  more. authoritative  commission,  a  more 
perfect  example,  a  more  impressive  evidence.  To  this  part 
of  His  office  He  perpetually  refers,  with  careful  caution  re- 
sisting the  notion  that  He  had  come  to  destroy  and  not  to 
fulfil.  If,  on  the  one  hand.  He  declares  that  heaven  and  earth ' 
should  pass  away  sooner  than  His  word^  on  the  other  He  pro- 
claims that  "  it  is  easier  for  heaven  and  earth  to  pass  than  one 
tittle  of  the  Laio  to  fail ;"  and  thus  identifies  "  His  word"  and 
the  Law  of  God,  in  a  common  authority  and  a  common  per- 
petuity. And  hence  He  usually  preferred  to  present  His 
own  commands,  while  He  continually  declared  them  His 
own,  rather  as  abstracts  of  the  more  diffuse  requisitions  of  the 
old  law,  or  as  literal  repetitions  of  them,  than  in  a  form  abso- 
lutely new.  Now,  "  the  law  was  given  by  Closes,  but  grace 
and  truth  came  by  Jesus  Christ ;"  the  disj^ensation  of  com- 
mand (the  "  ministration  of  condemnation")  was  committed 
to  Moses  as  its  messenger ;  the  dispensation  of  pardon  (the 
"ministration   of  righteousness")   to   Christ.      Considered 


SERM.  xviii.]       Priest,  Prvi>]iet,  and  Klmj.  303 

simply  as  ambassadors  of  God,  wc  have,  perhaps,  uo  direct 
reason  for  establishing  a  personal  superiority  of  one  to  the 
other ;  in  each  case  alike  a  man  could  be  originally  author- 
ized, a  man  could  s})eak,  a  man  could  be  dignilied  by  miracu- 
lous attestations.  But  when  we  descend  into  the  substance  of 
the  two  commissions,  the  equality  disappears,  and  a  distinc- 
tion manifests  itself,  which  not  merely  elevates  the  promised 
"  Prophet  like  unto  Moses"  ahove  Moses,  but  places  Iliin 
Avhere  no  created  nature  can  stand.  This  personage,  who 
was  to  witness,  and  enforce,  and  be  the  martyr  of  the  Law, 
comes  forward,  at  the  same  moment,  and  in  virtue  of  the 
same  commission,  to  suspend  its  terrors,  and  to  suspend 
them  on  what  condition  ?  On  condition  of  the  possession  of 
a  spiritual  grace,  directed  immediately  to  Himself ,  and  ter- 
minating in  Himself;  a  grace  which  is  alternately  designated 
as  "  faith  in  God"  and  "  faith  in  Christ,"  and  which,  if  it  some- 
times regard  Him  as  messenger,  and  relate  simply  to  belief 
in  His  veracity,  assuredly  no  less  frequently  regards  Him. as 
the  final  and  ultimate  object  of  religious  aftection.  ISTow  con- 
sider the  state  of  this  case.  A  being,  who  declares  that  the 
law  itself  shall  stand  eternal  and  immutable,  professes  to 
insure  acceptance  with  God,  without  its  personal  fulfilment 
by  the  accepted.  He  declares,  that  in  the  mind  of  each  in- 
dividual thus  accepted,  a  substituted  coudition  must  be  re- 
alized ;  a  condition  which,  in  itself,  has  no  natural  claim  to 
justify,  and  can  derive  its  justifying  quality  only  from  the 
merciful  ordination  of  God.  This  condition  is  such  as  to 
rest  the  whole  weight  of  the  mind  upon  the  messenger  him- 
self, who,  with  the  voice  of  a  man  and  a  brother,  proclaims 
its  sufficiency.  Every  form  of  phrase  is  employed  which 
can  evince  that  in  Him  the  substituted  affection  is  to  find 
its  object,  scope,  and  scene;  and  that  in  the  balance  of  the 
great  account,  a  thorough  dependence  on  Him,  infused  by 
the  Spirit  and  living  in  the  life,  is  to  cancel  the  debt  we 
never  could  have  paid.  It  is  of  no  moment  to  the  argu- 
ment to  what  class  we  reduce  this  peculiar  grace,  whether 


30-i  The  Divinity  of  our  [SERM.  XVIII. 

it  be  essentially  moral  or  purely  instrumental.  I  only 
demand  what  Scripture  confirms,  that  it  is  declared,  in  terms 
equally  absolute,  to  concentre  in  Christ  as  to  concentre  in 
God.  Who,  then,  is  this  Being,  that  thus  transfers  the 
rights  of  God  to  Himself?  Who  is  He  that  boldly  annuls 
the  harmonies  of  the  moral  universe,  and  makes  the  ten- 
dency to  Him  equivalent  to  the  tendency  to  God  ?  Who 
is  this  new  "  Bun  of  Righteousness,"  that  identifies,  in  their 
effects  on  the  eternal  state,  the  attraction  of  faith  to  himself 
as  a  centre,  and  the  attraction  of  unsinning  obedience  to 
God  as  a  centre  ?  I  can  find  no  solution  for  the  question, 
till  I  find  the  objects  identical ;  until  I  recognize  in  Him, 
who  fixed  on  Himself  man's  grasp  of  faith,  the  same  ever- 
lasting God,  who  of  old  fixed  on  Himself  man's  obligation 
of  obedience.  Then  can  I  see  the  force  of  that  comparison 
of  St  Paul  between  the  two  prophets  of  the  Law  and 
Gospel,  which  occupies  the  opening  of  his  third  chapter  to 
the  Hebrews;  when  he  states  that  Moses  was  "the  ser- 
vant," but  Christ  "  the  luilder  of  the  house,"  and  "  the  Son 
over  his  own  house."  Himself  the  architect  and  orderer  of 
the  great  structure  of  righteousness,  He  alone  could  de- 
scend into  His  own  mansion,  and  "  at  the  counsel  of  His 
will,"  arrange  its  temporary  disorders.  As  the  giver  and 
witness  of  the  Law,  yea,  the  very  essence  of  righteous- 
ness in  His  own  person,  He  could,  on  the  one  hand,  main- 
tain it  inviolate,  on  the  other,  alter  His  terms  of  accept- 
ance, from  sinless  obedience  to  Himself  to  faith  dependent 
on  Himself  But  what  an  "  order"  would  that  have  been, 
which,  leaving,  as  we  have  already  seen,  the  Law  unsatis- 
fied, should  have  compensated  disobedience  to  God  by  the 
worse  crime  of  unreserved  reliance  on  a  creature  ?  Or  what 
should  we  have  thought  if  Moses,  "  the  servant  in  the  house," 
had  come  forth  with  a  similar  proposal,  and  dared  to  pro- 
nounce himself  his  human  and  created  self,  the  object  on 
which  the  despairing  heart  of  man  was  to  rest,  and,  in  so 


SERM.  xviii.J       Priest,  Prophet,  and  King.  305 

resting,  feel  itself  liberated  from  the  curse  of  moral  guilt, 
an  in  union  with  the  nncreatcd  God ! 

My  opportunity  of  detaining  your  attention  is  at  present 
too  brief  to  carry  this  point  into  any  further  development. 
I  pass  without  delay  to  the  third,  the  kingly  office  of  the 
Messiah ;  and  in  the  Being,  who  was  anointed  to  this  office 
by  the  Spirit  of  God,  I  seem  to  detect  the  necessary 
presence  of  the  element  of  divinity,  even  more  prominent 
and  obvious,  though  not  more  certain,  than  in  either  of  the 
former  of  His  mediatorial  functions. 

When  the  prophet  Zechariah,  in  his  wondrous  thirteenth 
chapter,  publishes  the  character  of  the  evangelical  times, 
after  that  he  has  spoken  of  the  "fountain  for  sin,"  to  be 
"opened  to  the  house  of  David,"  he  specifies  as  one  important 
result  of  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel,  that  "  idoW^  should 
cease  "  out  of  the  land."  This  promise  has  been  partially, 
and,  in  proportion  to  the  success  of  the  pure  Gospel  of 
Christ,  will,  of  course,  be  more  and  more  completely, 
fulfilled.  The  evil  exists  in  direct  antagonism  to  Christi- 
anity, and  necessarily  falls  as  it  rises.  ISTow,  in  the  sense 
which  the  Scriptures  often  expressly  ascribe  to  idolatry,  and 
in  the  sense  everywhere  demanded  by  their  purport  and 
spirit,  all  withdrawal  of  the  spiritual  affections  from  God 
to  any  other  being  is  denounced  as  equivalent,  in  moral 
criminality,  to  the  coarser  guilt  of  the  worshippers  of  wood 
and  stone.  It  is,  therefore,  of  the  essence  of  Christianity, 
that  blessed  revelation  whose  purpose  is  to  unite  us  now 
and  for  ever  with  our  God, — that  it  should  propose  Ilim, 
and  Him  alone,  as  the  one  final  object  of  the  affections  of 
man. 

Now  let  us,  for  a  moment,  contemplate  the  prominent 
object  in  the  foreground  of  Scripture  prediction  and 
Scripture  history.  Alike  in  ancient  prophecy,  in  direct 
personal  claim,  in  apostolic  description,  and  in  the  yet  loftier 
portraitures  of  the  future  world,  a  Being  is  found  to  move 
through   the   Bible,  invested  with   characters   of  dignity 

2G* 


306  The  Divinity  of  cur  [seem.  XVITT. 

beyond  -wliicli  no  higher  exaltation  is  conceivable  by  man. 
To  this  Being  a  power  is  b}^  His  own  hallowed  lips  declared 
to  be  ''  committed,"  which  embraces  all  things  in  heaven 
and  in  earth ;  and  no  donbtful  intimations  apprise  lis  that 
the  recognition  of  His  authority  extends  far  beyond  this 
world  and  its  inhabitants.  A  prophet,  who  is  subsequently 
interpreted  by  a  prophet,  represents  Him  as  surrounded 
by  the  adoring  hosts  of  heaven,  who  veil  their  faces  in 
presence  of  His  surpassing  lustre;  and  the  last  book  of 
divine  prediction  discloses  the  same  transcendent  abode, 
not  merely  as  evermore  resounding  His  praises,  but  even 
as  owing:  to  the  verv  lio'ht  that  fills  and  beautifies  it  to  Him. 
And  if  it  be  true  of  the  sinless  heaven,  that  "the  Lamb  is 
the  light  thereof,"  no  marvel  that  He  should  be  designated 
as  "  the  light  of  this  world ;"  or  that,  from  every  depart- 
ment of  our  lower  creation,  a  tribute  should  be  levied  to 
celebrate  His  praise,  who  is  declared  to  be  the  one  that 
"fiUeth  all  in  all."  Accordingly,  with  direct  reference  to 
His  mediatorial  and  assumed  royalty  (of  which  alone  I 
speak  here),  names  and  titles  are  sought  for  Him  which 
assuredly  leave  nothing  but  the  Godhead  itself  beyond 
them ;  titles  which,  after  exhausting  every  form  of  unquali- 
fied pre-eminence,  at  length  rise  to  designating  Him  "  Prince 
of  the  kings  of  the  earth,"  "  Lord  of  lords  and  King  of 
kings."  That  this  regal  state  was  given  to  Christ,  and  given 
on  account  of  His  participation  in  the  human  nature,  is 
unquestionable,  for  Christ  Himself  amply  attests  it.  "The 
Father  hath  given  Him  authority  to  execute  judgment, 
lecause  He  is  the  Son  of  man."  But,  consistently  with  the 
principle  just  laid  down,  I  now  ask,  could  this  dignity  and 
its  appendages  have  ever  been  consigned  to  any  being  not 
essentially  divine  ? 

Religion  being  mainly  a  practical  matter,  our  true  devo- 
tion is  not  where  our  words,  but  where  our  hearts  place  it. 
I  have  already  said  that  this  principle  is  abundantly  testi- 
fied by  revelation  ;  I  now  add,  that  it  is  so  obvious  to  rea- 


SERM.  XVIII.]       Priest,  Prophet,  ami  King.  307 

son  as  to  need  no  detailed  proof.  That  which  is  the  final 
object  of  the  thoughts  and  affections,  is  to  every  man  prac- 
tically his  God.  Now  the  aim  of  the  revelation  of  God's 
will  being  (as  all  admit)  to  direct  the  heart  to  Rim,  the 
object  most  prominent  in  revelation  will  unquestionably 
be  that  God  himself;  and  on  II im  alone,  with  scrupulous 
jealousy,  will  the  entire  devotion  of  tlie  soul  be  centred.  If 
earthly  power  be  recognized  as  venerable,  it  will  be  vener- 
able only,  or  chiefly,  as  "  ordained  of  God  ;"  and  the  same 
oracle  that  bids  ns  render  unto  the  earthly  monarch  (and, 
by  parity  of  reason,  to  the  highest  conceivable  created 
power)  "  the  things  that  are  his,"  will  be  sure  to  reserve  for 
God  "  the  things  that  are  God's."  At  all  times  the  ultimate 
tendency  of  the  soul  will  be  His  "  by  whom"  alone  "kings 
reign ;"  the  loyalty  that  guards  the  throne  itself  has  its 
limits  when  it  jars  with  His ;  the  body,  soul,  and  spirit  are 
God's,  by  a  right  ancient  as  creation,  with  which  nothing 
can  interfere,  and  nothing  participate. 

Now,  it  is  perfectly  certain  that  the  same  divine  Being, 
who  thus,  by  the  voice  of  His  Scriptures,  demands  our 
whole  wealth  of  affections,  has  also,  in  the  very  same  Scrip- 
tures, exhibited  to  ns  a  personage,  distinct  from  the  simple 
and  unmingled  Godhead,  who  makes,  and  is  everywhere 
countenanced  in  making,  the  very  same  demand.  We  find 
that  God's  dispensation,  appointing  in  its  wisdom  a  "  Lord 
of  lords"  over  the  earth,  has  been  such,  that  the  highest 
conceivable  attributes  of  supremacy  are  combined  in  this 
Being,  so  as  to  demand  our  absolute  submission  as  a  right. 
We  find  that  our  whole  spiritual  life  and  eternal  fortunes 
are  suspended  upon  Him  who  "  quickeneth  whom  He  will," 
so  as  to  demand  it  as  our  interest.  We  find  that  every  glory 
imaginable  by  man,  and  more  than  he  can  ever  imagine,  is 
lavished  upon  this  great  personage,  so  as  to  obtain  it  from  our 
admiration.  Yet  were  this  all,  we  might  still,  perhaps,  by 
resolute  efi:brt,  contrive  to  save  a  thought  for  God  from  His 

But  this  is  not  all !     Ties  more 


803  The  Divinity  of  our.  [SERM.  xviil. 

potent,  more  lioly  still,  bind  us  to  the  Mediator,  and  charm 
us,  b J  the  very  necessity  of  our  nature,  from  the  cold  ma 
jesty  of  a  distant  and  invisible  God,  and  these  ties  (strange 
to  say  !)  are  found  to  compose  the  whole  habit  of  religion  ! 
He  redeemed  us,  and  we  love  liim  ;  He  offered  us  salvation, 
and  we  believe  on  Him ;  He  is  to  receive  us  into  glory,  and 
we  hojye  in  Him ;  He  is  our  strength  and  life,  and  we  rejoice 
in  Him  ;  He  is  proclaimed  our  "  King,"  our  "  Head,"  the 
vine  in  which  we  are  grafted,  the  foundation  on  which  we 
are  built,  and  we  adore  Him  !  He  who  framed  the  human 
heart,  and  knows  His  own  work,  knows  we  cannot  enter 
the  portals  of  this  "  kingdom"  of  the  Mediator,  and  not  for- 
get all  in  the  monarch  who  reigns  there  !  If  we  are  the 
unwarranted  worshippers  of  a  creature,  God  Himself  has 
raised  up  his  own  rival,  and  unveiled  the  image  to  our 
adoration,  and,  in  investing  that  image  with  all  the  perfec- 
tions of  deity,  has  betrayed  us  by  our  own  best  emotions. 
But  no  ;  the  monarch  of  this  kingdom  is  such  as,  in  Him- 
self, to  accomplish  all  and  to  reconcile  all ;  the  commissioned 
sovereign  and  the  eternal  sovereign  are  one,  man  incorpo- 
rated with  God ;  this  "  King  on  Zion"  bears  that  within 
Him  which  can  stand  the  whole  weight  of  our  adoration  : 
— we  need  not  dread,  in  our  hours  of  deepest  devotion,  in 
all  the  prostration  of  the  heart  before  its  Lord,  that  we  are 
defrauding  the  God  when  we  worship  Him  Avho  is  also  "  the 
man  Christ  Jesus."  God  has  not  placed  between  us  and 
Himself  a  Being  who  must  inevitably  arrest  the  affections, 
as  they  struggle  to  their  Creator ;  He  has  not  condemned  us 
to  hover,  in  unhappy  indecision,  between  the  restrictions  of 
the  reason,  forbidding  the  worship  of  the  creature,  and  the 
impulse  of  the  heaj-t  to  see  its  God  in  Him,  in  whom  it  sees 
unbounded  majesty  softened  to  unbounded  love. 

We  have  thus  seen  (and  I  have  given  you  but  the  frag- 
ments of  a  wider  argument)  that  though  the  Scriptures  had 
never  expressly  ascribed  to  Christ  absolute  and  essential 
deity,  as  an  element  in  His  mediatorial  person  and  capa- 


SERM.  XVITI.J        Priest,  Proj^hel,  and  King.  309 

city,  the  reason,  dwelling  on  the  objects,  execution,  and 
consequences  of  His  work,  might,  with  no  timid  voice, 
affirm  that  God  alone  was  competent  to  every  office  it 
involved. 

To  you  who  now  have  beheld,  in  the  incarnate  God, 
your  Priest,  your  Prophet,  and  your  King,  may  He  give 
the  will  and  power  to  adore  Him  as  He  deserves !  This, 
which  is  a  theme  of  grace  and  peace,  is  too  truly  a  theme 
of  terror  too.  Christ  the  divine  Saviour  is  one  with  Christ 
the  divine  Judge ;  nor  is  there  any  consideration  more 
appalling  to  conscious  guilt  and  conscious  neglect  than 
this,  that  it  is  none  other  than  the  Shepherd  who  yielded 
life  itself  for  the  sheep,  that  is  yet  to  sit  in  judgment,  on 
that  day  when  mercy  once  more  shall  disappear  into  the 
depths  of  the  divine  essence,  and  justice  alone  be  visible 
upon  the  throne  of  God !  Had  there  been  one  effort  un- 
made, one  instance  of  love  unexemplified,  one  form  or 
shape  of  mercy  untried  to  save  us,  we  might  have  a  hope 
to  bend  the  Sovereign  Judge  to  pity ;  we  might  plead  that 
every  chance  had  not  yet  been  exhausted,  and  trust  our 
misery  might  move  Him  to  respite  the  evil  day,  till  the 
one  omitted  remedy  were  tried  !  But  the  Judge  comes  into 
court  with  all  the  insignia  of  agony  and  sacrifice !  He  has 
already  proved  to  what  depths  almighty  love  could  go ! 
There  is  nothing  we  can  propose  which  He  has  not  already 
anticipated !  The  treasury  of  heaven  is  exhausted,  the 
possibilities  of  mercy  are  run  out !  Pondering  these  things, 
let  us  work  while  it  is  yet  day,  "for  the  night  cometh  when 
no  man  can  work."  So  shall  that  "  night"  be  to  us  but 
the  dawning  of  a  better  day ;  and  we  who  have  trusted  in 
Him  as  our  Priest,  and  followed  Him  as  our  Prophet,  shall 
glory  in  Him  as  our  King,  when  that  brightest  manifesta- 
tion of  His  power  shall  arrive,  which  inspired  lips  have 
termed  "  the  glorious  appearing  of  our  great  God  and  Sa- 
viour, Jesus  Christ !" 


SERMON  XIX. 

THE  EXPEDIENCY  OF  CHRIST'S  INVISIBILITY. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away  ;  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter 
will  not  come  unto  you. — John  xvi.  7. 

Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  sets  before  us,  in  tliese  words, 
one  of  the  great  mysteries  of  His  government.  You  are  all 
familiar  with  the  context.  It  was  the  night  of  the  betrayal, 
He  that  had  "received  the  sop"  had  already  gone  out,  to 
the  last  an  hypocrite ;  for  even  then  the  disciples  thought 
the  "  See  thou  do  it  quickly"  to  be,  not  the  sufferance  of 
treachery,  but  the  injunction  of  charity.  He  had  "gone 
out ;"  "  and  it  was  night,"  adds  the  Evangelist, — night,  that 
faintly  imaged  the  gloom  of  the  traitor's  own  perturbed 
spirit.  He  had  "  gone  out,"  and  was  already  in  communi- 
cation with  the  murderers,  for  it  was  at  length  "  their  hour 
and  the  power  of  darkness."  But  if  there  was  "  thick  dark- 
ness" that  hour  "  in  all  the  land,"  surely  "  the  children  of 
Israel  had  light  in  their  dwelling."  That  lonely  "upper 
room"  held  within  it  the  living  "  Light  of  the  world,"  and, 
may  we  not  say,  held  Him  at  His  loveliest  hour ;  or  do  I 
err  when,  in  the  calm  setting  of  this  Sun  of  Eighteousness, 
I  seem  to  perceive  a  radiance  more  tenderly  beautiful  than 
it  ever  diffused  before, — a  glory  we  no  longer  admire  with 
shaded  and  fearful  eyes,  but  fondly  gaze  on  through  un- 
cx)Tiscious  tears  ?     He  was  subject  to  all  the  guiltless  laws 


SERM.  XIX.]     The  Expediency  of  Christ's  InvisihiUty.        311 

of  liuman  nature ;  and  we  know  that  grief  has  a  power  to 
call  out  forms  of  spiritual  beauty  more  thrilling  than  its 
ordinary  manifestations.  However  it  be,  we  seem  to  see 
farther  into  the  very  heart  of  Jesus  in  the  mild  majesty  of 
that  evening's  discourse,  to  discover  a  depth  of  divine 
peace  more  central,  to  feel  the  heavenly  element  more 
thoroughly  transfused  into  the  earthly,  to  sec  llim  more 
truly  (in  the  fashion  we  are  promised  to  behold  Him  here- 
after) "  as  He  is."  Peter,  and  James,  and  John,  adored  an 
outward  change  on  Thabor ;  this  seems  a  kind  of  spiritual 
transfiguration.  It  is  far  from  being  explained,  but  it,  of 
course,  is  felt  more  deeply,  from  the  contrast  of  the  con- 
temporary incidents.  The  murderers  are  already  on  their 
way,  led  by  an  elect  disciple  ;  and  He,  who  saw  Nathanael 
under  the  fig-tree,  saw  them  even  as  He  spoke ;  and  while 
His  words  breathe  the  tranquillity  of  Paradise,  there  is  only 
"  the  brook  Cedron"  between  Him  and  Gethsemane. 

It  is  one  peculiarly  touching  trait  in  the  sorrows  of 
Jesus,  that,  to  a  great  degree.  He  was  necessarily  alone  in 
these  sorrows!  The  poor  and  illiterate  men  who  heard 
Him  could  not  yet  accompany  Him  into  those  abysses  of 
woe  which.  He  was  treading  and  to  tread.  Far  from  com- 
forting, they  could  scarcely  understand  Him.  He  had  to 
sustain  them  and  Himself;  instead  of  diminishing,  they  but 
multiplied  his  grief.  A  man  will  endure  much  if  he  feels 
that  his  endurance  is  appreciated ;  but  these  men  had  been 
taught  no  philosophic  admiration  for  heroic  virtue,  they 
were  no  refined  enthusiasts  of  the  moral  sublime.  They 
loved  Him,  indeed ;  but  it  is  not  the  unintelligent  affection 
of  instinct  or  habit  that  can  console  in  a  crisis  like  this ; 
and  events  proved  how  infirm  and  wavering  was  even  that 
habitual  loyalty.  "  Ye  shall  leave  me  alone."  Alas !  had 
He  ever  been  hut  alone? 

Themselves  helpless,  unable  then  to  help,  they  hang 
upon  their  betrayed  ]\Iaster;  but  He  considers  not  what 
they  can  return,  but  what  they  need.     He  predicts  their 


812  TJte  Ex'peQliency  of  [sERM.  xix. 

future  sufferings,  tliat  tliese  may  not  come  unexpected,  and, 
therefore,  more  overwlielming ;  and  that  the  remembrance 
of  the  prediction  may  assure  them  of  the  abiding  presence 
of  the  Divine  Predictor.  " 'These  things  have  I  told  you, 
that  when  the  time  shall  come  ye  ma}^  remember  that  I 
told  you  of  them.'  I  did  not,"  He  continues  (ver.  4),  "fally 
reveal  to  you  these  tidings  of  trial  and  trouble  from  the 
beginning,  'because  I  was  with  you;'  the  new  and  untried 
dispensation  of  my  absence  had  not  yet  commenced,  and  it 
was  unnecessary  to  afflict  you  with  intelligence  which 
could  have  no  reference  except  to  it.  '  But  now'  (vv.  5,  6) 
*  I  go  my  way  to  Him  that  sent  me,'  and  ye  ask  not  ichiiher^ 
but  unthinkingly  grieve  at  my  communication.  Ye  are  so 
occupied  with  grief  for  my  departure,  and  those  troubles 
which  must  oppress  you  when  your  protector  is  no  more 
at  hand,  that  none  of  you  thinks  of  asking  the  far  more 
momentous  question, — What  is  the  goal,  and  what  the 
object,  of  this  great  journey  ?  '  Nevertheless  I  tell  you  the 
truth,'  startling  as  it  may  at  first  appear,  '  it  is  expedient  for 
you  that  I  go  away ;'  advantages  shall  accrue  to  you  such 
as  you  have  never  yet  experienced ;  knowledge  yet  unpos- 
sessed, languages  yet  unspoken,  miracles  mighty  as  mine 
own.  But  to  communicate  these  powers  I  must  no  longet 
be  on  earth ;  one  world  cannot  contain  us  both ;  the  Master 
must  disappear  that  the  disciples  may  appear  in  His  dele- 
gated authority.  If  I  depart  not  in  the  flesh  I  cannot 
come  in  the  Spirit.  The  Holy  Ghost  in  mysterious  silence 
awaits  the  signal  of  my  presence  in  the  courts  of  heaven, 
and  must  await  it :  '  If  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter  will 
not  come  unto  you.' " 

This  is  the  special  declaration  to  which  I  am  to  call  your 
attention.  It  affirms  (you  will  observe)  not  merely  that  the 
Holy  Spirit  was  to  come,  but  that,  unless  Christ  departed, 
He  could  not  come  ;  that  the  disappearance  was  the  neces- 
sary condition  of  the  advent ;  that  a  visible  Christ  and  an 
invisible  "Spirit  of  Christ"  Avere,  in  the  present  dispensa- 


SERM.  XIX.]  GliruCs  InvisihiUhj.  313 

tion,  incompatible.  For  this  law,  thus  declared,  there 
doubtless  are  reasons  infinitely  beyond  all  capacity  of 
human  thought;  reasons  which  to  see  would  be  to  see  some 
of  the  darkest  secrets  of  eternity.  There  may  be  an  im- 
possibility in  this  case,  more  insuperable  than  any  law  of 
physical  nature.  The  harmonies  of  heaven  might  have 
been  as  fatally  violated  by  a  contradiction  of  this  ordinance, 
as  those  of  earth  by  the  sudden  suspension  of  its  widest 
natural  laws;  and  the  human  intellect,  which  is  unable  to 
grasp  the  ultimate  reasons  of  Providence,  is  at  least  per- 
mitted to  be  assured  that  those  reasons  cannot  but  exist. 
But  it  is  one  of  the  perfections  of  the  Divine  legislation, 
that  a  multitude  of  reasons  may  exist  for  a  single  ordinance, 
that  a  thousand  proprieties  may  be  conciliated  and  satisfied 
in  a  single  event,  and,  therefore,  that  innumerable  intellects, 
through  all  the  progressive  stages  of  intelligence,  may  con- 
template the  same  fact  in  different  aspects,  deduce  from  it 
different  results,  refer  it  to  different  laws,  yet  all  pronounce 
it  wise,  all  unite  in  the  choral  song,  "  Great  and  marvellous 
are  Thy  works,  O  Lord  God  Almighty !  just  and  true  are 
Thy  ways,  thou  King  of  saints  I"  And  thus,  even  in  our 
limited  experience,  we  may  perchance  detect  one  or  two  of 
these  subordinate  fitnesses  which,  along  with  vaster  and 
profounder  reasons,  made  it  right  that  Christ  should  be  in 
the  world  of  glory  ere  the  Paraclete  descended  into  the 
world  of  trial,  and  that,  thenceforward,  the  literal  and 
physical  presence  of  the  incarnate  Son  of  God  should 
during  the  earthly  history  of  the  Church,  be  superseded  by 
the  inward  energies  of  His  Omnipotent  Spirit.  The  subject 
divides  itself  naturally  into  three  main  topics  of  considera- 
tion, with  each  of  which  I  am  to  engage  you.  It  directs  us 
to  the  propriety  of  the  present  government  of  the  Church 
by  an  invisible  head;  to  the  intervention  of  the  Holy  Sjnrit  in 
carrying  on  this  dispensation  of  invisible  control ;  and  to 
the  disappearance  of  Christ  as  the  necessary  condition  of  the 
Spirit's  descent.  My  object  shall  be  to  assist  your  minds 
27 


314  The  Exijediency  of  [SERM.  xix. 

in  harmonizing  these  facts  with  each  other,  and  with  the 
scriptural  representations  of  religion  and  of  man.  These 
three  great  questions,  singly  distinct,  yet  mutually  con- 
nected, and  forming  the  natural  development  of  the  text, 
shall  engage  us  on  this  and  the  two  next  Sundays  ;  and  I 
am  mistaken  if  they  do  not  lead  us  to  views  of  the  Divine 
government,  new,  it  may  be,  to  some  of  us, — consoling  and 
impressive,  I  would  hope,  to  us  all. 

And  first, — the  government  of  the  Church  by  the  invisi- 
ble, as  contrasted  with  the  visible,  superintendence  of  Christ, 
the  uses  and  purposes  of  such  a  dispensation.  We  know 
that  the  declared  object  of  the  earthly  work  of  Christ  was 
the  creation  of  the  Churchy  regarded  as  catholic  or  universal, 
as  no  longer  restricted  to  a  special  race,  but  in  design  and 
capabilities  co-extensive  with  mankind.  So  prominent  is, 
indeed,  this  object,  that  it  seems  to  outshine  every  other, 
and  to  fill  the  whole  horizon  of  hope.  It  is  the  ardent 
genius  of  prophecy  to  strain  its  powers  of  supernatural 
sight  to  the  remotest  point  of  possible  vision,  to  merge  the 
means  in  the  end,  the  coming  preparation  in  the  distant 
completion ;  and  hence  we  need  not  be  surprised  to  find 
that,  though  the  pages  of  the  inspired  seers  contain  many 
clear  intimations  of  the  dread  mystery  of  sorrow  by  which 
the  great  object  was  to  be  wrought  out,  the  object  itself 
animates  them  to  yet  ampler  and  more  glowing  phrase. 
The  diffusion  of  divine  power,  a  throne  unbounded  and 
unquestioned,  the  "  isles  waiting  for  the  law,"  "judgment 
brought  forth  unto  victory,"  are  the  chosen  subjects  of 
praise  and  promise ;  and  however  the  Psalmist  might  de- 
light to  listen  to  the  music  of  that  "  river^  the  streams 
whereof  make  glad  the  city  of  God,"  he  still  more  rejoices 
to  see  it  in  its  future  depth  and  vastness,  as  that  illimitable 
sea^  by  whose  waters  two  other  prophets  have  symbolized 
the  spread  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God  (Isai.  xi. 
9 ;  Hab.  ii.  14).  The  saddest  pictures  of  the  mysterious 
agony  to  come  insensibly  brighten  into  this  before  they 


SEHM.  XIX.]  Christ's  InvLstUUty.  315 

pass  away.  The  same  song,  wliicli  begins  with  those  awful 
syllables,  echoed  back  across  a  thousand  years  by  the  Suf- 
ferer of  Calvary  ("  My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  for- 
saken me  ?"),  and  runs  through  every  mood  of  wretched- 
ness and  wrong,  closes  with  the  high  prediction  tliat  "  all 
the  ends  of  the  earth  shall  worship  before"  God.  The  most 
minute  and  the  most  mournful  of  all  the  sections  of  pro- 
phecy, that  begins  by  speaking  of  one  who  was  "  despised 
and  rejected  of  men,"  ends  by  proclaiming,  that  "many 
shall  be  justified  by  the  knowledge  of  Him;"  that  "the 
many  shall  be  His  portion  and  the  mighty  His  spoil." 
There  is  "  a  stone  which  the  builders  rejected,"  but  is  to 
be  "the  head-stone  of  the  corner."  If  He  is  a  priest,  He  is 
to  be  "  a  priest  upon  His  throne."  If  He  "  makes  recon- 
ciliation for  iniquity,"  it  is  "  to  bring  in  an  everlasting 
righteousness;"  and  ^^all  2^Goples^  nations,  and  languages, 
shall  serve  Him."  Thus,  through  all  the  trials  they  saw 
the  triumph ;  if  they  spake  of  "  the  sufferings  of  Christ," 
they  spake  also  of  "  the  glory  that  was  to  follow;  nay,  the 
sufferings  seem  almost  lost  in  the  glorj^,  and  the  intercept- 
ing cloud  is  consumed  and  irradiated  in  the  orb  that  rises 
in  the  distance  behind  it !  Thus,  the  establishment  of  a 
kingdom  universal  and  eternal,  of  a  Church  catholic,  whose 
first  stage  of  development  (would  God  it  corresponded  more 
worthily  to  its  transcendent  calling!)  already  exists,  is  the 
culminating  point  of  prophecy,  is  that  which  the  Holy 
Spirit  eminently  promised.  Himself  the  great  agent  in  its 
accomplishment. 

Now  as  this  seems  fairly  deducible  from  the  general  tenor 
of  prophecy,  it  may  be  lawful  to  ask,  by  what  instrumen- 
tality such  a  result  could  be  suitably  brought  about,  whether 
by  the  immediate  visible  sovereignty  of  a  living  governor, 
occupying  a  fixed  and  definite  place  on  earth,  or  by  the 
same  controlling  power,  equally  operative,  but  invisibly 
exerted.  A  very  slight  degree  of  reflection  will  surely 
sufiice  to  decide  this  question.     Whatever,  in  the  changes 


316  The  Expediency  of  [serm.  xix. 

of  the  world,  or  of  the  Church,  or  of  the  nature  of  Christ's 
relationship  to  both,  may  be  intended  and  suitable  for  the 
future, — it  appears  very  manifest  that,  for  the  present,  the 
universality  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  is  most  fittingly 
realized  and  secured  by  the  influences  of  an  unseen  Euler, 
and  a  purely  spiritual  energy  operating  as  His  gift  and 
representative.  To  fix  and  define  Christ's  position  would 
itself  be  to  particularize  the  character  of  this  universal 
society ;  to  know  that  its  presiding  head  was  Aere,  rather 
than  there^  would  inevitably  result  in  collecting  the  Church 
around  a  single  centre,  whence  its  gifts  and  graces  should 
radiate  to  all  others,  becoming  (like  all  radiations)  fainter 
as  they  spread.  Those  who  stood  upon  the  outer  verge 
of  the  spiritual  monarchy  could  not  feel  themselves  equally 
sitting  in  the  sunshine  of  this  living  righteousness,  with 
those  who  literally  "  beheld  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Christ  Jesus."  And  can  we  affirm  that  such  a  feeling  would 
be  altogether  unjustifiable,  when  we  remember  in  what  terms 
the  Scriptures  constantly  speak  of  a  blessing,  peculiar  and 
special,  attached  to  the  actual  vision  of  God  ?  But  the 
perfection  of  the  empire  of  Christ  is  that,  however  it  may 
please  His  mysterious  wisdom  to  distribute  His  special 
favors  among  the  ages  and  climates  of  the  world,  its  capa- 
cities of  blessing  are  equal  and  uniform  in  all  places  and 
times.  We  look  not  to  one  earthly  centre,  but  gather 
round  a  thousand  centres,  all  pointing  to  one  above !  The 
prerogatives  of  this  spiritual  constitution  are  meant  to  be 
not  accidental  but  essential,  and,  therefore,  they  are  not 
acc-umulated  round  any  chosen  earthly  locality,  as  would 
be  in  some  degree  inevitable,  if  the  Lord  of  the  Church 
were  Himself  to  assume  a  fixed  position  as  His  own.  A 
property  in  land,  or  the  appendages  of  such  a  property,  rise 
in  value  as  3^ou  approach  a  metropolis;  the  air  and  light  of 
heaven,  which  can  be  appropriated  by  none,  are  equally 
valuable  to  all  and  everywhere.  I  need  not  remind  you 
that  this  very  centralization  of  the  Church  under  a  single 


SERM.  XIX.]  Christ's  InvisihlUlij.  317 

visible  head,  wliicli  our  Lord  seems  purposely  to  have 
avoided,  until  the  great  revolution  that  shall  attend  His 
Second  Advent,  is  precisely  the  object  which  the  theory  of 
the  Papacy  attempts  to  attain. 

2.  But  even  supposing  this  objection  obviated,  and  that 
our  Lord,  preferring  not  to  depute  His  invisible  Spirit,  bad, 
by  whatever  means,  counteracted  these  tendencies ;  suppose 
that  this  "  light  of  the  world,"  from  an  earthly  station, 
could  have  poured  its  beams  as  equably  and  universally 
as  when  fixed  in  the  heavens ;  even  in  this  case  we  ma}^ 
perhaps,  be  able  to  discern  reasons,  which  make  it  ques- 
tionable how  far  it  would  be  expedient  that  Christ  should 
thus  be  manifested  as  the  public  sovereign  of  His  Church 
and  people. 

We  know  that  Christ,  being  God  as  well  as  man,  de- 
served and  received  adoration  during  the  days  of  His  flesh. 
In  all  the  instances  of  this  unqualified  adoration,  however, 
it  is  not  certain  how  far  we  can  answer  for  the  absolute 
purity  of  the  motives  of  all  the  adorers.  The  action  itself 
being  materially  justifiable,  it  is  quite  possible,  that  Ho 
whose  principle  it  was,  not  to  "quench  the  smoking  flax," 
not  to  reject  the  weakest  beginnings  of  righteousness,  may 
not  always  have  required  an  enlightenment  critically  perfect 
from.  His  worshippers,  may  not  have  hesitated  to  accept  an 
act  of  pious  submission  which,  nevertheless,  was  done  in 
ignorance  of  the  grounds  of  its  own  complete  propriety. 
Doubtless  they  often  adored  the  God,  when  little  beyond 
the  mighty  but  human  prophet,  or  perhaps  the  incarnate 
angel,  occupied  their  minds ;  the  half  instinctive  worship 
of  strong  emotion,  of  hope,  or  surprise,  or  gratitude,  rose 
to  an  object  loftier  than  itself  had  contemplated.  Permis- 
sible at  first,  and  for  a  while,  this,  however,  could  scarcely 
be  perpetuated  without  danger,  for  men  might  worship  a 
God  in  the  spirit  of  idolatry,  if  they  worshipped  only  the 
human  element  of  His  complex  nature.  Now  this  is  just 
the  result,  which  the  visible  presence  of  Christ  might  be 

27-^ 


318  The  Expediency  of  [SERM.  XIX. 

appreliendecl  to  produce.  Perpetually  familiar  with  the 
humanity,  it  is  scarcely  conceivable  that  men  could  fix  a 
steady  gaze  upon  the  deity  it  enshrined ;  assuredly  such  a 
power  of  abstraction  is  not  within  the  habits  of  the  mass 
of  mankind:  and  yet  it  is  only  under  this  condition  that 
Christ  can  be  legitimately  adored  with  the  unbounded 
homage  of  the  entire  man. 

But  we  may  carry  the  speculation  further.  It  may  be 
doubted  whether  the  nature  and  quality  of  the  worship 
itself  would  not  suffer  deterioration.  St  Paul  determined 
to  know  Christ  no  longer  after  the  flesh;  and,  without 
seeking  refined  signilicancies  for  that  phrase,  we  may  fairly 
pronounce  that,  constituted  as  man  now  is,  his  irresistible 
bias  would  be  to  know  a  visible  Christ  thus  only  or  thus 
chiefi}^  A  feeling  of  loyal  attachment  to  "the  Man  Christ 
Jesus," — laudable,  indeed,  yet  such  as  man  continually  dis- 
plays towards  objects  that  demand  and  deserve  it,  without 
any  material  results  on  the  general  character, — would 
probably  represent  the  average  devotion  of  the  most  de- 
voted ;  and  how  inferior  this  is  to  the  spirit,  essentially  un- 
earthly, of  the  religion  that  befits  our  pilgrimage,  I  need 
not  insist  under  this  head.  It  will,  perhaps,  appear  more 
distinctly  from  what  follows. 

3.  The  principle  o^  faith  is  the  basis,  and  the  condition, 
of  the  spiritual  life.  Now  faith  is,  according  to  the  inspired 
definition,  "the  evidence  of  things  not  seen;"  it  is  at  once 
the  warrant  and  the  conviction  of  the  invisible.  The 
present  spiritual  life  of  man,  then,  is  maintained  and  mani- 
fested, b}^  the  subsistence  within  him  of  a  principle  which 
attaches  to  the  unseen  ;  that  is  to  say,  it  appears  to  be  a 
fixed  law  of  the  spiritual  world,  necessary  in  the  established 
order  of  events,  that  man  should  pass  a  period  of  existence, 
during  which,  by  belief,  he  virtually  realizes  to  his  own 
convictions  that  better  system  of  things,  on  which  he  is 
subsequentl}"  to  enter  by  sensible  experience.  That  we 
should  be  unable  fully  to  assign  the  grounds  of  such  a  law, 


SERM.  XIX.]  Christ's  Invmhility.  819 

is  plainly  no  legitimate  objection  to  its  reality,  unless  it 
can  be  shown  that  the  same  scheme  of  government,  which 
necessitates  faith,  necessitates  also  our  knowledge  of  the 
reasons  of  that  necessity ;  not  to  add,  that  to  suppose  us 
fully  cognizant  of  these  reasons  would  probably  be,  in  a 
great  degree,  to  contradict  the  nature  of  faith  itself,  that  is, 
to  contradict  the  very  fact  we  are  to  account  for.  However, 
though  we  may  not  comprehend  the  entire  propriety  of  this 
dispensation,  we  may  strengthen  its  probability  as  a  fact, 
by  observing  how  completely  it  harmonizes  with  our  ex- 
perience of  the  plan  of  Providence  in  nature.  The  child 
must  pass  through  a  preliminary  period  of  total  dependence, 
taking  all  upon  trust,  and  through  that  dependence  (and 
only  thus)  be  assisted  into  the  use  of  all  his  faculties,  as 
well  mental  as  bodily,  until  he  is  at  length  enabled  to 
retrace,  in  the  self-dependence  of  matured  reason,  the  very 
same  ground  he  has  travelled  blindfold.  Every  form  of 
discipline, — in  a  greater  or  less  degree  every  species  of 
instruction, — proceeds  on  the  same  general  principle.  We 
believe  at  first,  on  the  evidence  of  testimony,  that  we  may 
afterwards  hiow  on  the  evidence  of  reason.  But  the  case, 
as  regards  religious  faith,  becomes  still  more  palpable  (and 
even  its  grounds,  in  some  degree,  disclosed),  if  we  reflect 
on  the  consequences  of  that  faith.  It  "  worketh  by  love." 
Now  if  there  be  anything  fairly  deducible  from  the  revealed 
accounts  of  the  future  destinj^  of  the  saved,  it  is,  that  this 
principle  of  love  is  to  form  its  element  of  action  and  of 
happiness.  Supposing  this  to  be  so,  it  is  in  the  nature  of 
the  case  probable  (not  now  to  allege  direct  intimations) 
that  this  principle  must  require  a  previous  formation, 
growth,  and  discipline,  in  the  present  state.  Nor,  indeed,  is 
it  nearly  so  incredible  that  a  present  active  affection  of 
divine  love  should  be  the  germ  of  a  future  development, 
as  that  organs  of  sight  and  hearing  should  be  formed  in 
the  unborn  infant,  which  are  incapable  of  any  exercise  at 
all,  until  it  emerges  into  a  world   altogether  new.     But  if 


320  The  Exj)ecliency  of  [serm.  xix. 

an  existing  principle  and  growth  of  divine  love  be  required, 
as  the  antecedent  to  its  own  subsequent  existence  in  another 
sphere  of  being,  it  is  manifest  that  everything  is  required, 
which  forms  the  necessary  condition  of  that  principle  and 
growth  ;  and  if  it  be  probable  as  a  fact,  and  right  as  an  ordi- 
nance of  God,  that  this  love,  thus  doubly  manifested,  should 
not  be  infused  once  for  all  in  its  j^erfedion ;  if,  according  to 
the  common  law  of  gradual  progress,  there  must  be  a  true 
embryo  stage  of  this  heavenly  principle, — the  first  mani- 
festation inferior  and  preparatory  to  the  second  ; — then  is 
it  in  the  same  proportion  probable  and  right,  that  a  stage 
o?  faith  should  exist,  as  the  requisite  foundation  for  that 
preliminary  love.  But  this  faith  must  be  mainly  directed 
to  Him,  who  is  the  appointed  medium  of  communication 
between  God  and  man  ;  and,  being  "  the  substance  of  the 
hoped,  and  the  evidence  of  the  unseen,"  it  supposes  Him 
removed  from  the  sphere  of  sense  during  the  whole  of  that 
dispensation,  in  which  it  is  the  elementary  principle  of 
religion.  And  thns,  that  nothing  may  be  sudden  or  abrupt, 
the  faith  which  clings  to  an  absent  Saviour  is  very  fitly 
made  the  connecting  link  between  the  reality  of  this  world 
and  the  reality  of  the  world  to  come  ;  and  the  imagination, 
under  the  guidance  of  Eeason  and  Revelation,  anticipates, 
and  b}^  anticipating  prepares  for,  the  heaven,  which  the 
purified  senses  are  yet  to  apprehend  by  direct  experience. 
I  trust  you  do  not  look  upon  these  considerations  as  un- 
profitable subtleties,  or  as  the  mere  exercise  of  speculative 
ingenuity.  I  assure  you  I  do  not  mean  them  as  such. 
What  has  just  noAV  been  said  of  the  preparatory  formation 
of  that  charity  which  "  never  faileth,"  is  equally  applicable 
to  every  other  grace,  which  can  make  men  "  meet  for  the 
inheritance  of  the  saints."  Founded  all  of  them  upon  faith, 
being  all  of  them  diverse  manifestations  of  the  life  of  faith, 
they  all  partake  of  the  ^?i^?'o<;/^^c/or^  character,  which  belongs 
to  a  dispensation  of  faith.  And  with  regard  to  them  all,  I 
know  nothing  more  important  to  remember,  than  the  great 


SERM.  XIX.]  Christ's  InvislhiUty.  321 

fact  whicli  these  reasonings  imply, — that  we  are  all  placed 
in  this  preparatory  state,  under  a  solemn  course  of  educa- 
tion for  immortality, — education  in  the  strictest  sense ;  that 
we  are  intrusted  with  the  formation  of  our  own  character ; 
that  such  as  we  make  ourselves,  such  we  must  be  for  ever; 
and  that  in  our  conduct,  in  our  words,  in  our  very  inac- 
tivity, we  are  (by  the  law  of  our  present  nature)  ceaselessly 
engaged  in  constructing  that  nature,  which  is  to  be  ours  for 
eternity.  What  unutterable  importance  does  this  tremen- 
dous charge  confer  upon  the  slightest  act  of  daily  life  !  in- 
significant in  itself,  it  swells  to  mighty  magnitude,  when  it 
becomes  an  element  in  that  accumulation  of  habits  which 
constitutes  the  character,  and  thence  an  item  in  an  immortal 
account,  and  in  its  consequences  absolutely  imperishable. 
Of  a  truth,  life  is  "  the  seed-time  of  eternity,"  and  every 
hour,  every  minute,  the  seed  is  sown,  which  is  to  re-appear 
in  immortal  fruits.  "  He  that  gathereth  not  with  me  scat- 
tereth  abroad,"  declares  our  Lord,  as  if  not  contemplating 
that  there  could  be  a  moment  in  which  either  was  not  done  ! 
He  Himself  stands  aloof  and  superintends  the  work, 
Himself  unseen,  because  He  knows  that  at  present  His 
visible  presence  would  interfere  with  the  completion  of  the 
process.  Faith,  to  qualify  for  glory,  must  fight  at  a  disad- 
vantage; love  must  seek  its  beloved  through  clouds  and 
darkness,  or  it  could  not  hereafter  know  itself  for  the  grace 
it  is ;  joy  must  rejoice  with  trembling,  and  smile  through 
tears,  if  it  will  yet  echo  the  Song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb ; 
patience  must  "  have  her  perfect  work."  He  knows  what 
is  essential  to  fit  His  people  of  the  dust  to  be  His  compa- 
nions in  glory  ;  and  though  the  probationary  discipline  be 
at  times  severe,  it  is  mercy  not  to  interrupt  it.  His  visible 
manifestation  would  tend  to  do  so ;  it  would  force  that 
spiritual  vegetation  which,  to  be  perfect,  must  be  progres- 
sive ;  it  would  perplex  and  unsettle  the  gradual  formation 
of  character ;  it  would  (to  use  a  figure  intelligible  to  che- 
mists) disturb  the  regular  cn/staJIizatioti  of  minds  slowly 


322  Tlie  Expediency  of  [SERM.  xix. 

consolidating  into  the  definite  form  the}-  are  to  assume  for 
eternity. 

4.  I  do  not  pause  to  insist  upon  various  corroborative 
circumstances,  combining  to  establish  the  superior  expedi- 
ency of  this  invisible  government,  which  will  probably  have 
occurred  to  many  of  you,  now  that  the  topic  has  been  so 
long  before  your  thoughts.  For  instance,  we  cannot  over- 
look the  difficulty  oi  finding  a  place  for  such  a  being,  in  a 
world  constituted  in  all  respects,  or  in  almost  any  respect, 
as  ours  is ;  and  if  we  follow  the  inquiry  more  closely,  we 
shall  probably  perceive,  that  such  a  place  could  not  be 
conceived  without  altering  the  elements  of  our  calculation, 
the  position  of  the  world  and  of  the  Church,  to  such  a 
degree  as  to  make  it  no  longer  the  same  question.  Whether 
He  appear  in  triumph  or  in  affliction,  this  world's  society 
can  offer  no  befitting  home  for  Jesus ;  it  is  not  yet  purified 
into  meetness  for  such  a  presence;  it  could  not  be  without 
changes  too  chimerical  to  expect  under  a  probationary  dis- 
pensation. And  even  though  it  could,  it  may  be  doubted, 
whether  such  a  visitant,  if  duly  recognized  and  adored, 
might  not  disarray  the  ordinary  organization  of  society  and 
government,  to  a  degree  which  He  could  scarcely  prevent, 
without  inconvenient,  without  even  supernatural,  interfer- 
ences. Royal  progresses  suspend  the  business  of  the  day 
as  they  pass  ;  what  would  be  the  effect  of  the  journeyings 
of  such  a  monarch  as  this  through  the  provinces  of  His 
spiritual  empire?  The  ancient  ardor  of  pilgrimages  to  the 
localities  of  a  Christ  crucified  may  give  us  some  conception 
of  the  overwhelming  influences  of  veneration  and  curiosity 
towards  a  Christ  enthroned.  While  again,  if  we  conceive 
Him  to  reside  on  earth,  such  as  He  is  now  in  Heaven,  it 
may  be  questioned,  whether  we  do  not  demand  a  natural 
impossibilit}'' ;  and  whether  the  glorified  frame  of  Christ 
may  not  be  of  a  structure  which,  though  human,  is  wholly  in- 
compatible with  the  physical  constitution  of  this  world,  and 
which,  without  a  special  miraculous  endowment,  could  not 


SERM.  XIX.]  ChrisCs  Invisibility.  323 

be  endured  by  the  feebleness  of  human  organs.  When  the 
three  Apostles  saw  Ilim  in  His  transfiguration,  "  they  fell  on 
their  faces  and  were  sore  afraid ;"  when  Paul  saw  the  light 
on  the  road  to  Damascus,  "he  fell  to  the  earth;"  and  when 
His  own  beloved  disciple,  the  privileged  friend  who  had 
lain  so  often  in  His  bosom,  saw  His  glory  in  Patmos,  he 
records  that  "he  fell  at  His  feet,  as  deaciy  On  such  con- 
siderations as  these  I  do  not  insist ;  not  because  they  are 
not  in  themselves  highly  interesting  and  important,  but  be- 
cause they  do  not,  like  the  former,  reflect  additional  light 
and  instruction  upon  our  own  actual  situation.  However, 
as  we  are  promised  to  be,  in  our  degree,  assimilated  to 
Christ  Himself  in  the  future  world,  there  is  one  objection  to 
our  entire  statement,  which  this  consideration  of  His  glorified 
humanity  readily  obviates.  It  may  be  NQvy  natui-ally  asked, 
if  these  multiplied  inconveniences  illustrate  the  wisdom  of 
Christ,  in  declining  to  continue  His  personal  manifestation 
after  the  day  of  His  ascension,  how  shall  the  kingdom  of 
glory  itself  be  carried  on,  when  we  are  to  live  in  His  pre- 
sence ?  To  this  the  reply  is,  that  we  are,  by  Scripture  it- 
self, justified  in  expecting,  at  that  great  crisis,  such  changes 
in  man  and  his  abode,  as  shall  abundantly  qualify  him  and 
it  for  the  abiding  presence  of  the  Lord.  I  have  enumerated 
no  difficulties  which  we  may  not  easily  anticipate  to  be 
then  overruled.  The  augmented  energies  of  the  promised 
"spiritual  body"  may  diminish  the  extent  of  distance  to 
such  a  degree,  as  to  make  the  local  presence  of  Christ  no 
longer  isolated  or  partial;  the  un worthiness  of  a  mere 
human  affection  will  assuredly,  by  knowledge,  experience, 
and  celestial  graces,  be  refined  into  a  higher  spirituality; 
the  discipline  of  faith  shall  have  been  completed  and  super- 
seded ;  and  the  Church  triumphant,  composed  of  none  but 
"  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect,"  shall  present,  to  the 
welcome  visitations  of  its  Lord,  none  of  the  impediments 
that  oppress  the  harassed  and  imperfect  Church  of  this 
world. 


324  The  Expediency  of  [serm.  XIX. 

5.  I  have  reserved  to  the  last  a  reason  perhaps  more  really 
influential  than  any  yet  mentioned,  but  which  I  can  only 
speak  of  now  as  a  thing  revealed,  whose  grounds  I  have  no 
time  to  investigate.  I  have  reserved  it  to  the  last,  because 
I  wish  it  to  leave  the  deepest  practical  impression.  It  is 
intimated  to  us  (and  what  tidings  are  these  to  the  sorrowing 
people  of  God  !)  that  the  Church  is,  in  all  things,  designed 
to  be  the  perpetuated  image  of  its  Lord  ;  to  reflect  Him  in 
His  humiliation  as  well  as  in  His  subsequent  triumph,  and 
thus,  by  progressive  changes,  to  "  grow  ujy  in  all  things  into 
Him  which  is  the  head."  Christ  suffered  and  now  reigns  ; 
the  Church  suffers  and  shall  reign ;  it  is  St  Paul's  condition 
of  our  glorification,  as  it  is  St  Peter's  of  Christ's  ;  for  if  the 
latter  tells  you,  that  the  prophets  spake  of  "  the  sufferings 
of  Christ  and  the  glory  that  should  follow,"  the  former,  in 
nearly  the  same  words,  exhorts  us  to  "  suffer  with  Him  that 
we  may  be  ivith  Him  glorified."  Now,  in  each  case,  the 
cloud  that  intercepted  the  celestial  light  proper  to  each  was 
the  great  cause  of  the  temporary  affliction  of  each ;  it  was 
removed  by  the  disclosure  of  the  Father  to  Christ  in  heaven ; 
it  icill  he  removed  by  the  second  coming  of  Christ  to  us. 
"  Ye  are  Christ's,  and  Christ  is  God's,"  declares  the  Apostle, 
bringing  the  perfect  analogy  of  the  relations  in  each  instance 
before  us;  or,  still  more  perspicuously,  "the  head  of  every 
man,  is  Christ,  and  the  head  of  Christ  is  God ;"  and  exactly 
as  Christ's  humiliation  was  marked  by  the  local  absence 
(so  to  speak)  of  the  Father,  who  was,  in  the  economy  of 
mediation,  His  head,  so  is  the  Church's  correspondent 
period  of  trial  darkened  by  the  similar  absence  of  hers. 
And  if,  at  any  time,  affliction  too  hard  to  be  borne  should 
press  the  body,  or  any  of  its  individual  members,  "  out  of 
measure,  above  strength,  insomuch  that  it  despair  even  of 
life,"  and  be  tempted  to  distrust  the  vigilant  affection  of  an 
unseen  Lord ;  let  such  remember  that  it  is  but  passing 
through  agonies  which  its  great  example  traversed  long 
before,  when  He  had  to  utter  to  His  divine  head  the  ter- 


SERM.  XIX.]  Christ's  InvisihiliUj.  325 

rible  expostulation  on  the  cross,  and  take  comfort  from  the 
thought,  how  brief  was  that  period  of  darkness,  by  what 
surpassing  glory  followed.  The  cross  must  still  be  the 
banner  of  the  faithful ;  the  Church  has  not  yet  overpast 
Gethsemane  and  Calvary.  If  it  were  m3^steriously  requisite, 
that  the  Captain  of  Salvation  should  be,  in  relation  to  His 
office,  "perfected  through  sufferings,"  and  if,  as  the  same 
oracle  declares,  "the  sanctifier  and  the  sanctified  are  of 
one,"  it  is  equally  fitting,  that  "the  many  sons"  to  be  "led 
to  glory"  should  be  led  through  the  same  pathway  of  sor- 
row ;  that  they  should  be,  like  Him,  undignified  and  unsus- 
tained  by  the  visible  patronage  of  heaven  ;  that,  their  per- 
fection being  wrought  out  like  His,  they  should  present, 
and  glory  to  present,  the  mournful  counterpart  of  every 
grief  He  bore.  May  the  Spirit  of  Christ  enable  His  own 
to  glor}^  in  sufferings  so  consecrated,  and  to  fear  no  hurt  as 
they  "  walk  in  the  midst  of  the  fire,"  seeing  evermore  in 
the  burning  fiery  furnace  another  even  as  they,  a  willing 
prisoner  in  the  flame,  "  \Nh.osQ  form  is  like  the  Son  of  GodP' 

We  have  thus  seen  some  of  the  reasons  which,  even  to 
our  human  capacities,  seem  to  make  it  "expedient"  that 
Christ  should  "  go  away  ;"  that  the  monarchy  of  the  Church 
should,  for  the  present  dispensation,  be  an  invisible  mon- 
arch}^. 

On  next  Sunday  I  shall  endeavor  to  bring  before  you 
the  second,  and  still  more  practically  important  branch  of 
the  subject,  which  regards  the  management  of  this  invisible 
supremacy  by  the  agency  of  the  Third  Person  of  the  blessed 
Trinity. 


28 


SERMON  XX. 

THE  INVISIBLE  GOVERNMENT  OF  CHKIST  THROUGH  HIS 
SPIRIT. 

(Preaclied  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away ;  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter  will 
not  come  unto  you. — John  xvi.  7. 

The  Church  of  God,  owning,  according  to  her  uncor- 
rupted  polity,  no  single  earthly  head,  and  beholding  in  all 
her  authorized  governors,  the  deputies  and  images  of 
authority  not  their  own,  looks  straight  to  heaven  for  her 
monarch.  Until  carnal  ambition  had  marred  the  majestic 
vision  in  presuming  to  finish  the  edifice,  her  gradations  of 
power  (from  her  thousands  of  inferior  ministers  to  her  few 
vast  patriarchates)  lessening  in  number  as  they  rose,  and 
thus  insensibly  narrowing  to  a  single  head,  yet  acknowledg- 
ing none  on  earthy  served  as  a  continued  and  impressive  con- 
fession of  the  absence  of  the  one  completing  power;  and 
men  wondered  the  more  at  the  symmetry  of  the  visible 
structure,  when  the  kej^-stone  that  crowned  the  arch  was 
hidden  beyond  the  clouds.  But  still,  as  represented  in  her 
faithful  children,  who  require  no  vicarious  Christ  to  remind 
them  of  the  original,  the  Church  of  the  living  God  avows 
it  her  calling  and  privilege  to  "  walk  by  faith  and  not  by 
sight,"  to  contemplate  in  the  spirit  what  she  shall  jQt  wit- 
ness in  the  body, — a  "  King  set  upon  Ilis  holy  hill  of  Zion." 
She  adores  already  the  prophetic  portrait  of  a  Christ  to 


SERM.  XX.]     The  invisible  Government  of  Christy  etc.  827 

come :  "  His  eyes  nre  as  a  flame  of  fire,  and  on  Ilis  head  are 
many  crowns,  .  .  .  and  He  hath  on  His  vesture  and  on  His 
thigh  a  name  written,  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords." 
Such  will  he  yet  appear,  and  such,  in  anxious  faith,  she 
sees  Him  now.  The  love  of  many  is  waxed  cold,  the  prac- 
tical rebellion  of  sloth,  and  pride,  and  worldliness  abounds 
among  us;  the  drunkard,  and  the  voluptuary,  and  the  pro- 
fane, invite  the  lightnings  of  heaven  upon  the  unhappy 
Church,  whose  nerveless  arm  is  unable  to  expel  them.  But 
the  good  providence  of  our  God  still  preserves  the  confes- 
sion of  this  tremendous  truth  among  its  neglectors,  and  the 
voice  of  the  universal  Church  to  her  Saviour  is  still,  "Thy 
THRONE,  0  God,  is  for  ever  and  ever;  a  sceptre  of  righte- 
ousness is  the  sceptre  of  Thy  kingdom."  That  royalty, 
though  real,  is  still  unapparent  in  its  fulness;  the  vast  pre- 
dictions of  David  and  Isaiah  are  still  to  find  their  comple- 
tion. Still  have  we  to  pray  "  Thy  kingdom  come."  The 
Church  lives  without  beholding  her  vivifier.  The  orb, 
whose  attraction  governs  every  element  of  our  system,  is 
still  nnder  eclipse, — eclipse  which  diminishes  not  Ris  light, 
but  ours. 

In  my  last  discourse  I  endeavored  to  suggest  one  or  two 
of  the  reasons,  which  unite  with  deeper  fitnesses  (incom- 
prehensible, perhaps,  to  human  or  angelic  reason)  to  make 
this  invisibility  expedient.  We  found  it  suitable  to  the  de- 
graded condition  of  a  world  unworthy  of  the  manifestation 
except  in  vengeance ;  and  profitable  for  the  diffusion  of  the 
professing,  and  the  discipline  of  the  believing.  Church. 
We  seem  to  see  difficulties  thus  precluded,  which  could  not 
otherwise  be  precluded;  objects  effected,  which  could  other- 
wise be  but  imperfectly  attained.  We  saw,  that  for  that 
complete  assimilation,  through  which  Christ  is  so  eminently 
glorified  in  His  subjects,  the  absence  was  demanded  of  the 
mediatorial  head  of  both,  and  all  the  peculiar  trials  which 
that  absence  brings.  But  this  absence  is  not  without  a 
virtual,  and,  in  some  mysterious  sense,  even  a  real,  presence 


328  TJie  invislhle  Qovernment  of  [SEKM.  XX. 

of  that  divine  ruler,  from  wliora  we  are,  for  a  time,  locally 
and  bodily  dissociated.  This  ineffable  communion  is  ac- 
complished through  the  agency  of  the  Third  Person  of  the 
blessed  Trinity ;  and  it  is  to  its  consideration  that  the  order 
of  the  subject  brings  us  this  day. 

It  might  be, — indeed  I  believe  it  has  been, — urged,  that, 
though  Christ  be  thus  invisible.  His  power  is  not  the  less 
direct ;  and  that  the  intervention  is  superfluous  of  any  third 
party  between  Him  and  the  object  of  His  superintendence. 
Assuredly  it  would  be  grievous  presumption  of  any  earthly 
mind  to  aspire  to  explain  the  entire  grounds,  or  any  one  of 
the  ultimate  grounds,  of  this  sublime  dispensation.  We 
cannot  speak  of  such  things  in  their  own  language,  we  can 
but  babble  of  them  in  ours.  However,  the  language  of 
infants  is  intelligible  to  infants,  and,  though  unworthy  of 
the  adult,  it  has  a  truth  and  propriety  of  its  own.  Some- 
thing may  be  pronounced  or  conjectured,  which  may 
assist  us  towards  discerning,  not  indeed  the  fathomless 
foundations  of  this  law  in  the  eternal  Mind,  but  such  har- 
monies and  fitnesses,  between  it  and  other  parts  of  the  re- 
vealed system,  as  are  within  the  observation  of  patient 
inquiry,  and  as  may  speak  of  even  deeper  truths  to  a  reason 
which,  after  all,  is  "  made  in  the  image  of  God,"  and  may, 
therefore,  hope,  if  not  to  grasp  the  substance,  yet  sometimes 
to  see  the  shadow  ;  if  not  to  contemplate  the  inmost  truth 
of  things,  yet  at  least  to  catch  the  outline  and  miniature, 
small  but  correct,  of  that  incomprehensible  reality. 

The  Scriptures  of  the  New  Testament  reveal  to  us,  then, 
the  great  truth,  that  Christ,  though  locally  absent,  is  yet 
mysteriously  present,  to  His  Church  collectively,  and  to  its 
faithful  members  individually.  Not  only  has  he  promised 
to  be  with  His  Church  always,  even  unto  the  end  of  the 
world," — not  only  is  it  declared  to  be  "  His  body,  the  ful- 
ness of  Him  that  filleth  all  in  all," — but  its  individual 
members  are  admonished  that  the  same  awful  truth  is  per- 
sonally applicable  to  themselves, — that  they  "  eat  of  His 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  throufjh  His  Sjnrit.  329 

flesli  and  drink  of  his  blood;"  that  "Christ  is  in  them  if 
they  be  not  reprobates  ;'•  that  "  Christ  is  in  them  the  hope 
of  glory;"  that  "Christ  dwells  in  their  hearts  by  faith;" 
that  "  if  Christ  be  in  them,  the  body  is  dead  because  of  sin, 
but  the  spirit  is  life;"  that  "they  live,  yet  not  they,  but 
Christ  liveth  in  them."  And  that  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
entire  in  each,  and  entire  in  all,  should  thus  be  the  in- 
habitant of  the  hearts  of  His  elect  people,  is,  as  you  know, 
the  mere  fulfilment  of  His  own  clear,  and  direct,  and  re- 
iterated promises. 

I  will  venture  to  add,  that  clear  apprehensions  of  this 
most  awful  subject  are  of  the  highest  importance  to  all, 
who  would  thoughtfully  harmonize  their  religious  beliefs ; 
of  importance,  especially,  to  all  who  are  interested  in  the 
great  controversy  of  the  present  day,  that  which  regards 
the  real  value  of  the  sacramental  gifts.  The  matter,  how- 
ever, presented  orally,  is  unavoidably  a  little  intricate  ;  and 
I  must,  therefore,  again  ask  you  to  remember  that,  being 
engaged  to  consider  the  invisible  government  of  Christ 
through  His  Spirit,  I  now  speak,  first,  of  the  presence  of 
Christ  which  the  Spirit  conveys  to  us;  secondly,  of  the 
presence  of  Christ  which  the  Spirit  represents  to  us ; 
thirdly,  of  the  sovereignty  of  Christ  as  the  true  fountain  of 
all  spiritual  presences  and  blessings  to  His  Church. 

Now  there  are,  I  conceive,  two  forms  of  the  presence  of 
Christ  indicated  in  Scripture,  a  direct  presence  and  an  in- 
direct presence ;  in  both  of  which  the  Third  Person  of  the 
blessed  Trinity  is  concerned,  though  in  different  ways.  In 
the  direct  presence  of  Christ,  the  Spirit  is  the  agent  which 
conveys  Christ;  in  the  indirect  presence,  He  is  the  agent 
which  represents  Christ.  On  each  of  these  mysterious 
facts  it  is  now  our  duty,  with  all  humility,  to  reflect.  The 
suggestions  I  ofl'er  are  not  meant  to  penetrate  to  their 
fundamental  reasons,  but  to  illustrate  by  revealed  analo- 
gies. 

I.  We  know  that  Christ  has  assumed  His  human  nature 

28* 


330  The  invisible  Qovernmerd  of  [serm.  xx. 

into  heaven,  and  preserves  it  tliere  inseparable  from  His 
divinity.  The  Apostles  beheld  Him  ascend  as  a  man,  the 
angels  declared  to  them  that  "that  same  Jesns  should  so 
come  in  like  manner  as  they  had  seen  Him  go  into 
heaven.  He  is,  therefore,  still  a  man,  unless  he  undergo  a 
second  incarnation  before  His  return  to  this  world.  He 
Himself  declared  that  He  held  the  sceptre  of  judgment^  as 
being  "  the  Son  of  man ;"  and  that  men  should  yet  see  the 
Son  of  man  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  power."  It  was,  in 
the  scheme  of  redemption,  essentially  requisite  (as  St  Paul 
has  unfolded  the  type  of  expiation, — Heb.  ix.  10)  that  the 
sacrificed  nature  should  itself  be  presented  in  the  heavenly 
sanctuary ;  and  to  that  same  sacrificed  nature  appertain  the 
high  results  of  the  sacrifice,  as  St  Peter  emphatically 
preached  it  to  the  Jews, — "  God  hath  made  that  same  Jesus 
tvliom  ye  crucified  both  Lord  and  Christ,''  The  anthems  of 
the  saved  rise,  not  to  the  deity  of  Christ  disrobed  of  the 
inferior  nature,  but  to  "  the  Lamb  that  was  slain."  "  The 
forerunner,"  we  are  told,  "  hath  entered  within  the  veil ;" 
but  He  could  scarcely  be  the  forerunner  of  men  except  as 
man ;  "  He  is  not  ashamed  to  call  them  brethren ;"  He  is 
"  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmities ;"  He  retains, 
then,  the  heart  and  sympathies  of  a  man.  "  To  hira  that 
overcometh  He  will  give  to  sit  on  His  throne,"  as  He  sits 
on  "  the  throne"  of  His  Father ;  the  unity  of  the  Godhead 
enabling  Him  to  partake  the  throne  of  a  God,  the  unity  of 
the  manhood  enabling  Him  to  share  His  with  us ;  the 
double  nature  thus  empoweriug  the  same  Christ  to  touch, 
with  each  hand,  the  extremities  of  beiug.  However  dif- 
ficult, then,  it  be  for  us  to  conceive  the  localization,  in  that 
mysterious  world,  of  a  human  frame,  real,  though  refined, 
doubtless,  to  an  ethereal  purity ;  real,  though  made  worthy 
to  accompany,  as  its  appropriate  possession,  an  infinite 
essence ;  real  and  inseparable,  though  not  in  any  sense 
limiting  the  immensity  of  the  Godhead;  whatever  difii- 
culties  this  fact   may  present  to  the  imagination  (and   in 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  through  Bis  Sj^jiril.  831 

truth  it  presents  no  greater  diHiculty  to  either  reason  or 
imagination  than  any  other  connexion  of  the  infinite  with 
the  finite),  it  must  be  received  as  the  gbrious  basis  and 
guarantee  of  all  the  eternal  hopes  of  man. 

Now,  while  this  truth  is  carefully  preserved,  while  it  is 
admitted  compatible  with  the  reality  of  Christ's  divinity, 
it  must  also  be  held  compatible  with  the  divine  attributes 
of  Christ's  complex  2')erson  ;  a  point  much  more  commonly 
mistaken.  Though  the  bodily  frame  of  Christ  is  essentially 
limited  by  the  law  of  place,  that  single  person,  which  is  at 
once  divine  and  human,  possesses  all  its  divine  prerogatives 
unimpaired ;  though  the  simple  manhood  be  as  such  re- 
stricted, the  person  is  unlimited  in  energy  and  presence. 
The  "manhood  being  taken  into  God,"  but  the  person  sub- 
sistent  from  eternity,  the  Christian  verity  forbids  us  to 
imagine,  that  the  person,  thus  complicated,  has  suffered  by 
the  addition  ;  not  the  eternal  Son  alone  is  divine,  but  Christ 
is  divine ;  not  the  Son  alone  omnipresent,  but  Christ  is 
omnipresent.  So  truly  is  this  the  case,  that  on  the  partici- 
pation of  the  personal  Christ  all  undying  life  is  hy  Himself 
suspended.  Now,  with  the  Son  of  God  all  creation  partici- 
pates, as  the  effect  with  the  absolute  cause  from  which  it 
emanates,  as  a  work  is  the  image  of  its  conceiver's  purpose 
and  plan;  for  "by  Him  God  made  the  worlds."  And, 
therefore,  the  natural  existence  of  man  is  thus  connected 
with  Him,  as  being  one  part  of  the  universal  effect.  But 
to  unite  the  great  cause  with  His  work,  and  convey  into  it 
those  divine  elements  of  perfection  which  were  in  Him, — 
to  make  the  Word,  infinite  in  itself,  apparent  in  a  limited 
creation,  and  enable  God,  contemplating  it  as  His  own 
shadow  in  the  world  of  time  and  sense,  to  say  that  all  "was 
good-p  for  these  purposes,  or  such  as  these,  the  intervention 
is  manifestly  revealed  of  a  third  agent,  active  through 
every  department  of  that  inferior  stage  of  being,  the  agent 
who  even  then  was  designated  as  the  "Spirit  of  God,"  and 
who  is  so  often   termed  the   "Finger,"  and  the   "Power" 


332  The  invisible  Government  of  [seem.  xx. 

of  the  Omnipotent,  "  moving  on  the  face  of  the  waters," 
and  "garnishing  the  heavens,"  and  vivifying  onr  human 
dust.  Kow  if  the  Church  be  (as  it  is  perpetually  described) 
a  "  new  creation,"  correspondent  on  a  higher  level  to  the 
old,  is  it  not  absolutely  accordant  with  the  analogy  of  the 
divine  dispensations,  that  when, — no  longer  as  the  omni- 
potent Son  of  God  alone,  but  as  the  omnipotent  Christ, — 
no  longer  by  natural  influence,  but  by  supernatural  inhe- 
rency,— the  exalted  Saviour  mystically  enters,  in  order  to 
accomplish.  His  high  intent,  that  soul  of  man  which  is  to 
be  the  scene  and  material  of  His  work,  the  same  Spirit  of 
God,  in  the  loftier  character  of  the  "  Holy  Spirit,"  should 
re-appear  as  a  necessary  agent  in  this  wonderful  incorpora- 
tion? But  when,  rising  from  the  analogy  of  the  natural 
world,  you  "  compare  spiritual  things  with  spiritual,^^  the 
harmony  becomes  more  remarkable  still.  It  is  expressly 
revealed  that  the  Spirit  of  God  was  the  immediate  effector 
of  the  transcendent  mystery  of  the  Incarnation.  Now  the 
Church  of  Christ  is  designed  as  the  continued  represent- 
ative of  Himself  on  earth,  and  in  all  its  faithful  members 
realizes  the  design.  It  is  declared  to  be  with  Him  "  cru- 
cified," "buried,"  "risen,"  "ascended;"  and  as  it  is  His 
image  in  all  these  particulars,  so  is  its  image  in  these  based 
upon  the  same  primary  fact, — upon  a  counterpart,  humble, 
indeed,  but  real,  of  that  Incarnation  which  first  enshrined 
the  divine  essence  in  human  clay.  If  the  Spirit  of  God 
was  required  as  the  appropriate  agent  in  the  one,  can  we 
not  discern  a  similar  propriety  in  His  efficacy  in  the  other? 
And  in  this  view  of  His  operation  mysteriously  combined 
with  that  of  Christ,  introductory  of  it  and  perfective  of  it, 
can  we  not  follow  the  train  of  our  Lord's  discourse,  when, 
after  solemnly  proclaiming  that  "whoso  eateth  His  flesh 
and  drinketh  His  blood  hath  eternal  life,"  He  declares,  in 
illustration  of  His  meaning,  that  "it  is  the  Spirit  that 
qulckeneth  ?"  The  two  are  blended  here  as  they  were  in 
tlic  first  scene  of  our  redemption.     The  Son  of  God  invested 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  through  His  Spirit.  833 

not  Himself  with  manhood  independently  of  the  Iloly 
Ghost ;  He  descends  not  to  be  the  inhabitant  of  our  hearts 
now  without  the  same  intermediation. 

On  the  whole,  Christ,  in  the  fulness  of  His  complex 
personality,  is  enabled,  by  a  true  though  most  mysterious 
omnipresence,  to  pervade  at  will  the  body,  collectively  and 
individually,  of  His  earthly  followers.  Being  God  as  well 
as  man,  He  is  the  very  fountain  and  principle  of  divine 
holiness ;  being  man  as  well  as  God,  He  is  the  appropriate 
source  of  all  human  blessedness.  Therefore  is  He  Himself 
the  holiness  He  gives.  He  Himself  at  once  the  spring  and 
the  river  of  these  living  waters.  This  seems  the  universal, 
certainly  the  customary,  law  of  Providence,  that  earthly 
changes  should  be  gradual ;  and  if,  in  human  progress  to 
celestial  perfection,  all  must  be  thus  preparatory,  it  may  be 
anticipated  that  some  term  must  intervene  between  us  and 
that  Christ  whom  we  are  fully  to  enjoy  hereafter,  which 
may  connect  us  here ;  nor  could  we  imagine  anything  more 
answerable  to  these  expectations,  than  this  invisible  pre- 
sence of  our  gracious  Lord,  which  makes  those  associates  in 
a  spiritual  mystery  now,  who  are  to  be  associates  by  the 
blessed  vision  hereafter. 

But  if  such  a  gift  as  this  be  ours,  the  objection  returns 
with  redoubled  force.  What  further  need  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  in  the  economy  of  grace,  except  for  the  alleged 
purpose  of  conveying  it?  Speaking  with  all  humility,  I 
venture  to  observe,  that  there  seems  intimated  a  peculiarity 
regarding  this  personal  presence  of  Christ,  which,  if  real, 
separates  it  generically  from  the  co-ordinate  graces  of  His 
Spirit.  We  read  not  of  it  as- capable  of  degree^  as  present 
more  or  less ;  we  read  of  it  as  present  altogether,  or  not  at 
all.  A  gift  of  this  definite  nature,  though  at  once  the 
foundation  of  all  and  the  loftiest  of  all,  is  not  alone  sufli- 
cient  for  the  state  and  position  of  man  in  this  world.  The 
entire  system  of  redemption  is  a  remedial  system,  and  must, 
therefore,  suit  itself  to  the  circumstances  of  the  patient; 


334  The  invisihle  Government  of  [serm.  xx. 

and  if  (as  is  most  certain)  tlie  warfare  of  probation  be 
necessary  for  tbe  perfection  of  man,  the  supernatural  as- 
sistances must  vary  in  force^  to  make  it  indeed  a  warfare. 
Hence,  over  and  above  that  2^ersonaI  indwelling  of  Christy  in 
wliicb  the  Holy  Spirit  is  the  incorporating  agent,  the  faith- 
ful disciples  of  the  same  Christ  are  blest  (in  all  its  varieties 
both  of  quality  and  of  degree)  with  the  presence  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  Himself  But  so  completely  is  Christ  "  first  and  last" 
in  the  new  creation,  that  even  this  direct  inhabitancy  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  souls  of  men  is  described  as  pro- 
ceeding from  Him  and  representing  Him.  I  mention  this, 
not  only  to  carry  out  my  immediate  subject,  the  omnipre- 
sent government  of  our  invisible  Master  in  all  its  forms, 
but  also  because  I  seem  sometimes  to  perceive,  in  a  large 
class  of  theological  writers,  a  kind  of  holy  jealousy  for  the 
supreme  honor  of  the  Son  of  man ;  as  if  everything  ascribed 
to  the  special  energy  of  the  Third  Person  of  the  Trinity, 
in  the  management  of  the  Church,  were  withdrawn  from 
the  Second.  Now  it  is  abundantly  certain  that,  whatever 
be  the  precise  measure  of  this  spiritual  activity,  exerted  as 
His  proper  function  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  we  should  deeply 
err  if  we  conceived  of  it,  as  in  any  sense  separating  us  from 
the  personal  influences  of  Him  with  whom  it  is,  in  truth, 
designed  to  serve  as  a  more  perfect  bond  of  connection. 
The  Holy  Ghost  lives  in  the  soul  under  this  dispensation, 
as  the  Spirit  of  Christ ;  we  are  not  to  regard  Him  in  the 
mere  simplicity  of  His  infinite  deity,  but  as  sent  forth  by 
the  God  and  man,  Christ  Jesus,  as  His :  nor  is  the  abiding 
presence  of  this  holy  principle  less  essentially  divine 
because  bestowed  and  operative  under  special  conditions 
and  a  special  aspect.  On  this  account  he  is  perpetually 
described  by  titles,  which  impress  how  truly  His  function 
is  transmissory  of  perfections  that  dwell  in  Christ,  and  are 
ours  only  because  His.  This  Spirit  is  the  "  Spirit  of  the 
Son,"  the  "  Spirit  of  Christ,"  the  "  Spirit  of  Jesus  Christ." 
The  two  divine  personages  boar  the  same  title  in  the  work 


SEEM.  XX.]  Christ  throuyli  His  Spirit.  385 

of  mediation,  as  it  now  proceeds ;  tlic}^  are  both  denomi- 
nated Paracletes,  the  one  in  the  Gospel  of  St  John,  the 
other  in  his  first  Epistle;  and  the  work  of  intercession,  to 
which  that  term  mainly  applies,  is  elsewhere  expressly 
declared  to  be  carried  on  by  both.  And  thence,  when  the 
Holy  Ghost  is  first  announced  under  that  designation,  He 
is  called  by  Christ  ^^  another  Comforter,"  as  He  had  been  a 
Comforter.  All  His  offices,  as  they  regard  the  publication 
of  divine  truth,  are  declared  by  Christ  to  have  direct 
relation  to  Him  ;  "  He  shall  glorify  me,  for  He  shall  receive 
of  mine;^^  "He  shall  bring  all  things  to  your  remembrance, 
whatsoever  /  have  saidf^  "  He  shall  not  speak  of  Himself 
but  whatsoever  He  shall  hear  that  shall  He  speak."  And 
His  convictions  of  the  world,  whether  of  sin,  of  righteous- 
ness, or  of  judgment,  are  wrought  in  relation  to  Christ 
respectively,  to  unbelief  of  Christ,  to  the  ascension  of 
Christ,  to  the  victory  of  Christ.  So  complete  is  i\iQ  practi- 
cal indentification,  that  the  position  of  both  is  pronounced 
the  very  same  in  this  world :  if  it  be  declared  of  the  Lord 
of  Truth  that  the  world  "  hateth  Him"'  and  "hath  not 
known  Him,"  the  same  discourse  pronounces  of  the  pro- 
mised Spirit  of  Truth,  that  "  the  world  cannot  receive  Him, 
because  it  seetli  Him  not,  neither  knoweth  Him ;"  the 
Spirit  of  Christ  in  onr  human  nature  being  to  pass  through 
the  same  world  with  the  same  results  as  the  Godhead  of 
Christ  had  done  before ;  and  the  faithful  Church  being  (as 
I  already  hinted)  through  the  inherence  of  its  Lord,  and  of 
the  Spirit  of  its  Lord,  an  image  of  His  Incarnation,  pro- 
longed, through  successive  ages,  with  all  its  accompani- 
ments of  rejection,  humiliation,  and  wrong.  This  Holy 
Spirit,  then,  proceeding  essentially,  as  the  elder  Church 
implicitly  held,  and  the  majority  of  the  modern  Church 
expressly  maintains,  from  the  eternal  Son  as  well  as  from 
the  Father,  its  presence  is  effectively  the  presence  of  the 
Trinity,  and  sent,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  by  one  wlio  was 
man  as  well  as  God,  it  comes  with  a  superadded  tincture 


336  The  mvisihle  Government  of  [serm.  XX. 

of  that  celestialized  humaDit}^,  which  alone,  perhaps,  could 
fit  it  for  its  office  of  addressing  our  earthly  humanity ;  it 
transmits,  not  the  incommunicable  graces  of  the  pure  God- 
head, but  the  graces  of  "the  man  Christ  Jesus;"  and, 
issuing  from  the  depths  at  once  of  divine  and  human 
nature  (for  when  the  person  of  Christ  became  human  as 
well  as  divine,  that  Spirit  which  proceedeth  eternally  from 
Him,  and  was  sent  in  time  from  the  same  Christ,  could  not 
but  be  mysteriously  affected  by  the  change),  it  is  "  a  living 
water,"  because  it  infuses  an  essence  from  "  Christ  who  is 
our  life :"  being  His  hand  and  seal,  whereby  we  are  "sealed 
unto  the  day  of  redemption,"  it  stamps  His  entire  signa- 
ture ;  it  "  forms,"  as  an  Apostle  expressed  it,  "  Christ  within 
us."  Hence  it  has  often  been  observed,  that  the  two  divine 
Persons  are  sometimes  represented  as  co-operating,  in  a 
way  of  intimacy  which  requires  faculties  beyond  ours  to 
dissever.  The  last  Adam  is  made  "  a  quickening  Spirit." 
The  "  Spirit  giveth  life,"  which  Christ  is  and  bestows.  So, 
"if  Christ  be  in  us,  the  Spirit  is  life ;"  and  our  law  is  "the 
law  of  the  Spirit  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus."  "He  that  is 
joined  to  the  Lord  is  one  spirit;"  and  "by  one  Spirit  we 
are  baptized  into  one  body,"  which  body  is  Christ's.  "  The 
Lord  is  that  Spirit,"  which  yet  is  "  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord." 
And  so  in  other  similar  complexities  of  expression,  which 
we  have  now  no  time  to  cite,  far  less  to  attempt  to  classify, 
but  all  of  which  point  to  an  intimate  combination  of  opera- 
tions that  are  nevertheless  distinct.  Indeed  it  seems  to  be 
the  very  genius  of  these  highest  mysteries  of  our  religion, 
that  in  them  all  tends  to  a  mystic  unity  of  action,  nothing 
seems  done  in  which  all  are  not,  though  diversely,  doers. 
The  law  of  love,  which  obtains  as  the  master  principle  of 
our  earthly  Christianity,  is  but  the  reflection,  in  the  world 
of  time,  of  the  absolute  communion  that  ineffably  subsists, 
in  the  world  of  eternity,  between  the  persons  of  the  three- 
fold Deity.     "  That  they  all  may  be  one,"  said  our  Lord, 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  Ihrvwjh  His  /Sjnrit.  337 

The  Holy  Spirit,  then,  in  Ilis  direct,  as  in  his  sub- 
ordinate or  instrumental  presence,  is  the  agent,  not  of  dis- 
junction, but  of  combination,  between  the  faithful  and  their 
Lord  ;  Christ  still  continuing  the  fontal  reservoir  of  all  the 
graces  communicated.  "  Of  His  fulness  have  we  all  re- 
ceived, and  grace  for  grace ;"  "  grace  according  to  the 
measure  of  the  gift  of  GhristJ^  The  same  passage  which 
declares,  that  "  in  Ilim  dwelleth  all  the  fulness  of  the  God- 
head bodily,"  continues  by  declaring  its  special  bearing 
upon  our  state,  telling  us,  that  "in  Ilim  ^yq  arefilled,^^  yea, 
even  (as  it  is  elsewhere  said)  "unto  all  the  fulness  of  God." 
This,  then,  being  understood,  and  forming  the  internal  link 
between  the  two  forms  of  the  Spirit's  energy,  the  one,  in 
which  Christ  is  present  directl}^,  and  the  Spirit  indirectly 
as  the  effector  of  the  mystery,  "  the  friend  of  the  bride- 
groom,"— the  other  in  which  the  Spirit  is  directly  inherent, 
and  Christ  through  Him  representatively, — we  must  now 
regard  more  particularly  the  nature  and  purpose  of  the 
latter  gift,  or  presence  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the  soul.  The 
remarks  which  I  shall  offer  may,  however,  be  considered 
as  in  a  great  degree  applicable  to  both,  being  directed  to 
the  subject  of  inward  divine  presences  in  general.  My 
object  shall  now  be,  as  briefly  as  I  can,  to  establish  that  the 
great  revelation  of  the  New  Testament,  on  this  subject,  is 
really  in  strict  analogy  with  the  entire  Bible  history  of  the 
origin  of  our  race,  and,  by  the  story  of  its  lapse,  is  best, 
and  for  all  reasonable  purposes  sufficiently  elucidated. 

The  clearest  general  view  of  this  matter,  I  believe,  may 
be  obtained  by  considering  it  as  the  counterpart  to  that 
tremendous  activity  of  the  spirit  of  darkness,  which  has 
continued  incessantly  since  the  fall  of  man.  It  has  often 
been  said  that  Satan  perpetually  imitates  the  operations 
of  God ;  the  observation  seems,  in  some  remarkable  in- 
stances, founded  in  truth ;  but,  as  regards  tlie  main  features 
of  the  Christian  scheme,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  the 
reverse  approaches  more  near  to  the  reality.  The  remedy 
29 


838  The  invisible  Oovernment  of  [serm.  xx. 

must  succeed  the  disease ;  and,  being  directed  to  meet  its 
prominent  points,  must,  in  many  instances,  bear  to  it  the 
analogy  of  immediate  contrast.  The  outlines  must  re- 
semble, though  the  coloring  and  expression  be  opposed  ; 
and  though  God  had,  doubtless,  from  the  beginning,  pro- 
jected the  forms  of  beauty  with  which  He  would  in  the  end 
adorn  the  original  ground  of  our  nature,  yet,  in  the  evolu- 
tion of  time  and  events,  the  glowing  tints  from  His  celestial 
pencil  came  in  to  supplant  the  gloomy  shadows  that  already 
defiled  the  canvas.  Alas!  so  ingrained,  too,  is  the  sub- 
stance defiling  in  the  substance  defiled,  that,  in  this  life,  it 
can  never  be  wholly  eradicated,  or  even  wholly  overlaid ! 

What  account,  then,  not  metaphysically  or  psychologi- 
cally, but  spiritually^  do  the  Scriptures  give  us  of  the  state 
of  our  nature,  on  that  side  of  it  which  looks  towards  the 
redeeming  work  of  Christ  ?  To  this  the  answer  is  rapid 
and  easy.  We  find  it  everywhere  represented  (either  by 
assertion  or  by  implication)  as  spiritually  dead,  as  infected 
with  a  curse  and  condemnation,  such  that  every  human 
soul  is,  as  it  were,  still-horn  into  this  world ;  nor  need  I 
now  insist,  how  emphatically  experience  confirms  this 
lamentable  truth.  We  find  it  clearly  intimated,  moreover, 
that  God  is  pleased  to  view  men  as  aggregates  under  a 
single  head,  seeing  them  in  their  sources  as  well  as  in 
themselves ;  a  law  made  visible  in  the  Jewish  economy, 
witnessed  (for  the  substance  of  it)  in  all  nature,  by  the  in- 
heritance of  bodily  and  mental  characteristics  from  parents 
and  ancestors,  and  attested  in  grace,  by  the  constant  con- 
trast of  the  first  and  second  Adam,  as  the  respective 
fountains  of  curse  and  of  blessing.  The  efficacy  of  each  illus- 
trates, and  is  made  in  the  inspired  page  to  illustrate  that  of 
the  other.  As  we  find  that  to  Adam  are  ascribed  the  natural 
death  of  all  men,  the  spiritual  death  of  all  in  this  life,  and, 
if  carried  out,  its  necessary  consummation  in  eternal  ruin; 
so  to  Christ  are  attributed  the  contrasted  gifts,  resurrection 
to  all  men,  spiritual  life  to  such  as  He  visits  in  this  world, 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  through  His  Spirit.  339 

and  its  appropriate  completion  in  eternal  glory.  In  tlie 
fifth  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans,  we  are  amply 
warranted  in  expecting  to  understand  each  by  each.  May 
we  not,  then,  gain  some  light  as  to  the  formal  nature  of  the 
spiritual  gift,  by  examining  what  is  the  formal  nature  of 
the  curse  inherited  from  Adam  by  the  human  race  ?  I  do 
not  now  consider  either  in  the  way  of  imputation,  but  in 
the  way  of  inherence. 

St  Paul  must  here  be  our  chief  instructor.  As  in  one 
place  he  tells  us  that,  "  as  in  Adam  all  die^  so  in  Christ  shall 
all  be  made  alive ;"  so,  in  the  more  extended  notice  already 
referred  to,  he  enlarges  on  the  nature  of  the  transmission. 
In  Romans,  v.  12-21,  he  affirms,  among  other  truths,  that 
"  by  one  man  sin  entered  into  the  world,  and  death  by 
sin;"  that  "the  judgment  is  from  one  unto  condemnation;" 
that  "  by  one  man's  offence  death  reigned  ;"  that  "  by  one 
man's  disobedience  the  many  were  made  sinners."  It  is 
certain,  then,  that,  explain  it  how  we  will,  and  though  we 
could  not  explain  it  at  all,  we  inherit  sin  (and  consequently 
death)  from  Adam.  Now  what  is  sin  ?  That  St  Paul  may 
be  his  own  interpreter,  we  turn  to  the  seventh  chapter  of 
the  same  Epistle,  and  we  there  find,  in  distinct  characters, 
St  Paul's  theory  of  sin.  I  use  the  word  "  theory"  allowably, 
for  the  long  and  profound  passage  in  question  is  really  an 
elaborate  theological  argument,  and,  though  wrought  out 
in  those  forms  of  rapid  eloquence  that  eminently  belong  to 
the  Pauline  inspiration,  really  approaches  nearer  to  the 
exactness  of  philosophical  disquisition,  than  any  passage 
of  equal  length  in  the  Bible.  In  a  passage,  then,  whose 
decisions  no  man  can  slight,  as  the  pardonable  exaggera- 
tions of  pious  ardor, — for  thus  men  have  dared  to  speak  of 
expressions  elsewhere,  which  their  hearts  had  not  risen  to 
the  power  of  interpreting, — in  such  a  passage  as  this,  close, 
careful,  and  argumentative,  St  Paul  has  told  us  that  sin  is 
something  inseparable  from  human  nature  indeed,  but 
altogether  and  essentially  distinct  from  it.     He  had,  in  the 


340  The  invisible  Qovernment  of  [seem.  xx. 

previous  chapter,  spoken  of  sin  as  "  reigning  in  the  body," 
of  men  as  being  "  the  servants  of  sin,'^  a  master  whose 
"  wages  are  death," — of  being  ^^ freed  from  sin,"  and  of  sin 
"  not  having  dominion''^  over  those  who  are  "  under  grace ;" 
expressions  which  all  import  the  real  distinctness  of  evil 
from  the  human  personality.  He  now  declares,  as  the 
substance  of  a  long  series  of  considerations,  that  "if  I  do 
that  I  would  not,  it  is  no  more  I  that  do  it,  hut  sin  that 
dwelUth  in  me ;"  and  this  he  asserts  twice  in  the  same  words 
(vv.  17,  20),  as  if  to  impress  on  his  readers  that  the  prin- 
ciple was  of  the  highest  importance  in  the  theory  of  the 
Christian  revelation.  ISTor  can  we  interpret  the  principle 
as  importing  less  than  that  the  element  of  sin,  though 
inwrought  and  universal  in  human  nature,  is  still  foreign 
to  it,  and  its  government  an  usurpation.  While,  to  assure 
us  of  this,  "the  mind"' with  which  "we  serve  the  law  of 
God,"  "the  inner  man,"  which  "assents  to  the  law  of  God," 
and  "the  desire"  to  perform  it  (vv.  15,  18),  though  ineffect- 
ive,— all  terms  which  express  the  amount  of  natural  light 
Avhich  survived  the  fall, — exclaim  against  the  intrusion  of 
this  tyrant  of  our  unhappy  nature.  This  account  of  sin  is 
verified  by  all  those  innumerable  forms  of  expression  which 
attribute  it  to  the  direct  and  constant  energy  of  Satan, — of 
Satan,  however,  within  as  truly  as  without  us ;  this  point 
forming  the  transition  to  the  opposite  (but,  as  I  am  pre- 
pared to  show,  not  contradictory)  aspect  of  this  mysterious 
influence  of  evil.  For  while  the  distinctness  of  this  principle 
is,  as  we  have  seen,  in  every  form  implied,  we  also  unde- 
niably find  the  whole  strain  of  Scripture  implying  that  the 
clement  of  sin  is  in  us,  becomes  a  part  of  us  not  naturally 
separable,  the  corrupting  constituent  of  a  corrupt  nature, 
imputable  to  us,  moreover,  as  our  own  choice,  and  thence 
rendering  us  personally  subject  to  the  aversion  of  a  righteous 
and  holy  God.  These  things  show,  that  all  acts  of  sin  are 
the  yielding  to  a  direct  temptation,  in  the  truest  sense, — the 
yielding  (and  often,  as  experience  and  St  Paul's  authority 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  through  His  Sjnrit.  3-11 

establish,  against  our  anxious  wish)  to  the  suggestions  of  a 
tempter,  himself  essentially  hostile  to  God  ;  a  tempter,  who 
so  subdues  our  will  to  his  purpose,  that  it  is,  from  the 
beginning  of  our  life,  practically,  though  not  literally,  one 
with  his.  In  the  intensity  of  his  power,  that  is,  in  the 
degree  of  our  servitude  of  will,  lies  the  exact  measure  of 
the  virulence  of  sin,  under  which  we  are  prostrate,  yet  iviih 
which  we  are  blended ;  as,  in  the  strong  and  direct  affirma- 
tions of  St  Paul,  in  the  perpetual  closeness  of  the  intimacy 
asserted,  in  the  very  nature  of  spiritual  energies,  in  the 
production  of  bodily  disease  and  death  as  the  natural  evolu- 
tion of  inward  principles  of  physical  (dependent  on  moral) 
evil, — especially  in  the  peculiar  case  of  insanity,  and 
perhaps  still  more  in  the  expressive  exhibition  of  de- 
moniacal possession  at  the  time  of  Christ,  we  are  compelled 
to  recognize  a  mysterious  inherency  of  the  governing  prin- 
ciple, an  indwelling,  distinct  from  the  man  but  to  the  man 
inseparably  adherent,  of  an  essence  or  nature  derived  di- 
rectly from  that  being  whom  we  are  taught  to  regard  as  to 
us  the  fountain  of  all  active  evil.  This  spirit  can  be  ex- 
pelled, and  it  can  return,  while  its  effects,  as  attested  by  the 
universal  law  of  death,  and  the  imperfection  of  the  best 
efforts  of  even  the  "  spiritual  man,"  are,  to  a  certain  extent, 
in  this  world  irremediable.  The  evil  spirit  has  the  ad- 
vantage of  priority  in  each  soul  as  it  springs  to  life,  and  he 
uses  it :  no  poison  so  virulent  can  leave  the  constitution  as 
it  found  it;  and  the  Spirit  of  God  in  this  world  has  to 
wander  among  ruins  I 

Such  being  the  nature  of  evil,  the  association  of  an 
accursed  element  with  our  nature,  it  surely  would  seem  that 
it  must,  in  accordance  with  all  the  intimations  of  Holy 
Writ,  be  met  and  counteracted  by  the  introduction  of  an 
element  of  holiness  really  abiding  as  it  is  abiding,  really 
distinct  as  it  is  distinct,  the  seed  of  eternal  life  as  it  is  of 
death  eternal.  And  it  is  not  difficult  to  show,  that  these 
three  characteristics  are  precisely  those  of  the  regenerating 

29* 


842  The  invisible  Government  of  [SERM.  XX. 

and  renovating  gift  of  the  new  covenant,  of  that  blessed 
effluence  which  was  first  formally  sent  as  the  regal  largess 
of  Christ  Jesus;  which  externally^  or  in  itself  regarded,  is 
termed  the  "Holy  Spirit,"  or  "Spirit  of  Christ;"  which 
internally^  as  in  a  manner  consubstantiated  with  the  human 
soul,  is  termed  Spirit^  in  opposition  to  flesh,  and  in  contrast 
to  mind.  The  analogy  seems  complete.  The  original  cor- 
ruption consists,  not  in  the  evil  of  every  faculty  (as  some 
thoughtlessly  speak),  for  our  faculties  are  neither  good  nor 
evil  (except  as  all  that  comes  from  God  is  good) ;  they  have 
no  moral  character  whatever ;  conscience  itself  is  not  moral, 
but  actions  referred  to  conscience ; — the  corruption  consists 
in  the  superadded  presence  of  a  principle,  once  inherent  in 
Adam,  thence  by  the  spirit  of  evil  perpetuated  to  us,  which 
governs  the  will  and  perverts  the  faculties  into  the  ma- 
chinery of  sin.  The  regenerating  gift  must,  in  like  manner^ 
consist,  and  is  in  Scripture  amply  evidenced  to  consist,  not 
in  the  annihilation  of  any  of  our  natural  faculties,  but  in 
the  indwelling  of  a  principle  once  inherent  in  Christ,  and 
from  Him  transmitted  to  all  who  in  Him  are  "  born  of  the 
Spirit ;"  a  principle  which,  as  it  advances,  displaces  its  rival, 
as  it  retreats,  admits  it,  when  it  shall  make  us  wholly  its 
own,  shall  wholly  dispossess  it,  when  it  deserts  us,  yields 
the  heart  once  more  and  altogether  to  ruin. 

I  shall  close  with  a  further  circumstance  of  comparison, 
which  I  submit  to  your  patient  reflection.  Our  indwelling 
sin  is  declared  to  be  traceable  to  Adam,  in  a  manner  accu- 
rately corresponding  (as  the  Apostle  intimates)  to  the  head- 
ship of  Christ.  Our  holiness  is  referrible  to  Christ,  as  3^ou 
know,  not  merely  in  the  way  of  imputation,  of  which  I  am 
not  at  present  speaking,  but  also  through  that  spiritual  gift, 
which  is  the  fruit  of  His  Incarnation  and  victory.  These, 
we  know,  were  no  waste  of  divine  mercy,  but  the  requisite 
remedies  for  corresponding  evils.  May  we  not,  then,  allow- 
ably conceive,  that  in  Adam  (as  also,  doubtless,  in  her  who, 
together  with  him,  forms  the  natural  origin  of  our  race) 


SERM.  XX.]  Christ  through  His  Spirit.  343 

was  realized,  in  a  true  and  intelligible  sense,  the  human 
incarnation  of  the  mysterious  principle  of  evil,  which,  from 
that  incarnation,  as  its  necessary  prc-rcquisite  (in  virtue  of 
that  fatal  victory  when  alone  in  the  story  of  this  world  a 
soul  born  upright  fell),  and,  having  completed  the  formal 
condition  of  combining  itself  with  human  nature,  being  no 
longer  a  spirit  external  to  us,  but,  so  to  speak,  humanized 
in  Adam,  and  from  him  deriving  a  character  qualifying  it 
to  act  upon  us  his  wretched  descendants, — from  these  and 
such  like  sources,  I  say,  acquired  a  power  accurately 
answering  to  that  of  Christ,  of  transmitting  an  evil  influ- 
ence of  darkness,  a  manifestation  of  itself,  into  human  souls, 
insomuch  that  at  the  instant  when  life  is  dawning  there  is, 
by  this  accursed  agency,  bound  up  with  every  soul  of  man 
a  substantial  presence  of  evil,  there  to  remain,  the  relent- 
less tyrant  of  the  will,  until  exorcised  by  the  correspond- 
ing presence  of  holiness,  the  mystic  "  Spirit  of  Christ,"  the 
secxnid  Adam.  "  Original  sin"  is  thus  in  its  source  and  gene- 
ration, as  well  as  in  its  active  efficacy,  the  terrible  counter- 
part of  supernatural  grace ;  to  be  born  in  sin  (so  often  the 
scoff  of  the  infidel)  ceases  to  be  more  incredible  than  to  be 
regenerated  to  purity ;  a  tremendous  harmony  seems  dis- 
coverable in  the  great  mystery  of  God,  parting  into  its  two 
regions  which  Scripture  has  (as  if  with  purposed  contrast) 
designated  the  mystery  of  iniquity  and  the  mystery  of  god- 
liness ;  the  author  of  the  former  being,  by  a  fearful  resem- 
blance to  his  celestial  adversary,  first  "manifested"  in 
sinless  "  flesh,"  that  his  work  might  be  "  witnessed"  by  his 
own  ministering  "  angels,"  and  "  believed  on"  in  a  benighted 
"world."  Twice  was  our  nature  in  its  original  purity 
entered  by  powers  above  itself;  each  has  left  its  representa- 
tive, as  the  fruits  of  its  triumph,  in  the  respective  spirits 
of  evil  and  of  good,  of  light  and  darkness,  of  truth  and  of 
deception,  of  Christ  and  of  Satan. 

We  have  now  seen  the  special  function  of  the  Comforter 
whom  Christ  was  to  send,  and  have  endeavored  to  illustrate. 


S4A         The  invisible  Government  of  Christ,  etc.       [serm.  XX. 

by  generalizing  them,  the  circumstances  of  the  transmission. 
If  you  reflect  on  these  views,  you  will  probabl}^  have  anti- 
cipated, before  the  period  when  I  may  next  be  enabled  to 
address  you,  many  of  the  remaining  considerations  to  be 
then  ofiered  in  completion  of  the  subject, — in  illustration 
of  the  nature  of  this  divine  indwelling,  in  proof  of  its  per- 
fect consistency  with  the  freedom  of  the  human  will,  and 
(as  the  third  branch  of  our  general  subject)  of  the  propriety 
that  the  ascension  of  Christ  Himself  to  celestial  glory 
should  precede  this  mysterious  presence,  thus  perpetuated 
in  the  Church  at  large,  as  a  divinely  organized  constitution, 
and  in  the  hearts  of  its  believino^  members. 


SERMON  XXI. 

cueist's  departuke  the  condition  of  the  spirit's 

ADVENT. 

(Preached  before  the  University  of  Dublin.) 

It  is  expedient  for  you  that  I  go  away ;  for  if  I  go  not  away,  the  Comforter  will 
not  come  unto  you. — John  xvi.  7. 

The  gift  of  Christ  and  of  His  Spirit,  resident  as  Paraclete 
in  tlie  Church,  forms,  as  I  have  endeavored  in  the  last  dis- 
course to  illustrate,  the  direct  counterpart  to  that  other 
fatal  gift,  which,  like  it,  was  superadded  to  the  simplicity 
of  our  original  nature.  Man  was  made  "  a  living  soul,"  by 
the  creative  Spirit  which  ^^hreathed  into  his  nostrils  the 
breath  of  life;"  and,  with  expressive  propriety,  God  incar- 
nate, emitting  a  re-creative  Spirit,  employed  the  same 
action,  when  promising  to  breathe  into  His  Apostles  the 
breath  of  a  new  life.  He  said,  "Receive  ye  the  Holy 
Ghost."  The  latter  endowment,  however,  neither  destroyed 
nor  renewed  the  former;  it  was  meant  to  meet  and  over- 
come that  which  had  subsequently  entered  as  a  principle  of 
rebellion  and  ruin.  In  Adam  and  Eve  alone,  of  all  the 
human  race,  existed  our  nature  in  its  elementary  simplicity ; 
the  Satanic  intrusion,  at  the  moment  of  their  fall,  burdened 
it  with  an  alien  principle  of  evil,  thence,  in  right  of  that 
gloomy  conquest,  transmitted  to  their  heirs  for  ever;  the 
divine  incarnation,  equally,  superadded  to  it  a  celestial  sup- 
plement, in  right  of  Christ's  victory  transmitted  to  all  who 


346  ChrisCs  Departure  the  Condition      [serm.  xxi. 

are  His,  and  bound  up  immortally  with  the  substance  of 
their  being.  Both  are  hidden  from  human  consciousness, 
even  as  the  soul  itself  is;  like  it,  both  are  known  by  the  re- 
sults of  their  secret  activity.  The  motions  of  the  carnal 
man,  and  the  motions  of  the  spiritual  man;  the  active  vices 
of  the  natural  mind,  and  the  living  graces  of  the  regenerate 
mind ;  the  deeds  of  darkness  and  the  deeds  of  light ;  the 
works  of  the  flesh  and  the  fruit  of  the  Spirit  (as  you  find 
them  contrastedly  enumerated  in  Galat.  v.,  and  such  like 
passages); — all  these  are  the  respective  manifestations,  in 
the  sphere  of  action  and  of  consciousness,  of  the  two  rival 
principles,  themselves  sunk  in  the  secret  depths  of  the  souls 
of  rrien. 

It  has  indeed  been  very  commonly  held,  yet  I  cannot 
but  think  on  slender  foundations,  that  Adam  himself  pos- 
sessed the  supernatural  graces  which  are  now  issued  by 
Christ,  or  graces  correspondent  to  them.  Our  inspired 
information  respecting  the  first  man  is  very  limited,  jQi  I 
cannot  but  think  it  nearly  decisive  against  this  doctrine. 
The  expressions  commonly  quoted  are  certainly  quite 
insufficient  to  establish  it.  We  are  told  that  he  was  created 
"upright"  (Eccles.  vii.  29),  and  "in  the  image  of  God." 
The  former  term  manifestly  imports  no  more  than  that  he 
was  formed  without  any  taint  of  positive  sin,  in  contradis- 
tinction from  his  descendants.  The  latter  is  sufficiently  an- 
swered when  we  regard  him  as  possessed  of  all  the  higher 
faculties  of  humanity,  in  their  unfettered  development,  their 
due  authority,  and  their  mutual  harmony, — conscience, 
intellectual  powers,  freedom  of  will,  and  dominion  over 
the  creatures ;  these  being  the  qualities  which  make  man 
in  this  world  analogous  to  what  God  is  in  the  universe. 
The  further  ascription  seems  to  depend  chiefly  on  two 
expressions  of  St  Paul,  one  of  which  speaks  of  "  the  new 
man,"  as  "  after  God"  (in  conformity  with  God's  will,  xata 
Qiov)  "  created  in  righteousness  and  true  holiness"  (Eph.  iv. 
24);  from  which  it  is  inferred,  that  Adam's  resemblance 


SERM.  XXI.]  of  the  spirit's  Adcent.  347 

must  have  coincided  with  these  characters,  and  thence  been 
identical  with  the  Christian's;  as  if  the  resemblance  to  God 
(supposing  it  here  intended)  may  not  consist  in  a  vast 
variety  of  particuhars  all  excellent,  but  all  distinct,  and 
some  more  excellent  than  others ; — the  other  passage  (Col. 
iii.  10)  declaring  that  "  the  new  man  is  renewed  in  know- 
ledge after  the  image  of  his  Creator,"  the  Creator,  whose 
image  is  here  said  to  be  stamped  upon  the  regenerate,  being 
assuredly  Christ  Himself  as  revealed  in  the  Gospel,  accord- 
ing to  the  expression  (Eph.  ii.  10),  that  the  Christian  is 
"created  in  Christ  Jesus,"  and  having  no  relation  (except, 
perhaps,  that  of  very  remote  allusion)  to  the  original  for- 
mation of  man  in  a  divine  image.  But  what  seems  deci- 
sively to  prove  that  Adam  did  not  possess  the  supernatural 
graces  in  question,  is  this ;  that  these  graces  are  now,  and 
are  admitted  to  be,  essentially  connected  with  the  immor- 
tality of  glory;  that  that  immortality  to  Adam  was  sus- 
pended upon  his  eating  of  the  "  tree  of  life ;"  and  that  he 
never  did  eat  of  the  tree  of  life.  I  need  not  recall  to  your 
memory  the  awful  words  of  his  expulsion :  "  Behold,  the 
man  is  become  as  one  of  us,  to  know  good  and  evil :  and 
now"  lest  he  put  forth  his  hand,  and  take  also  of  the  tree  of 
life,  and  eat,  and  live  for  ever:"  therefore  the  Lord  God  sent 
him  forth  from  the  Garden  of  Eden,  "  to  till  the  ground 
from  whence  he  was  taken."  Hence  it  is  that,  in  the  visions 
of  the  Revelation,  the  same  "tree  of  life"  re-appears  in 
heaven,  and  re-appears  also  as  the  immediate  gift  of  Christ. 
"  On  either  side  of  the  river  was  the  tree  of  life"  (xxii.  2). 
"  To  him  that  overcometh  ivill  I  give  to  eat  of  the  tree  of 
life,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of  God"  (ii.  7). 

As  these  considerations  seem  plainly  enough  to  show 
that  in  our  parents  in  Paradise  we  see  the  simple  substra- 
tum of  humanity,  self-dependent,  and  its  self-dependence 
overthrown ;  so  the  whole  strain  of  Scripture  bears  testi- 
mony to  the  Satanic  nature  of  the  added  element,  from  the 
hour  of  the  fall  perpetuated  in   and  around  us.     "  The 


348  Christ's  Departure  the  Condition      [SERM.  XXI. 

enemy  wlio  sowetli  tares  is  the  devil."  "  Ye  are  of  your 
father  the  devil,  and  the  lusts  of  your  father  ye  will  do." 
"When  the  strong  man  armed  keepeth  his  palace,  his 
goods  are  in  peace."  "  Satan  entered  into  Judas."  "  The 
god  of  this  world  hath  blinded  the  eyes  of  them  who 
believe  not."  "  We  wrestle  against  the  rulers  of  the  dark- 
ness of  this  world ;"  we  "  withstand  the  wiles  of  the  devil." 
"  The  prince  of  the  power  of  the  air"  is  expressly  declared 
to  be  "  the  spirit  that  now  luorketh  in  the  children  of  disobe- 
dience." Men  may  be  recovered  "  out  of  the  snare  of  the 
devil,"  who  are  "taken  captive  by  him,"  and  thus  "delivered 
from  the  power  of  darkness."  Prompting  the  first  murder, 
for  "Cain  was  of  that  wicked  one,"  his  instigation  shall 
urge  the  last,  for  his  shall  they  be  who  are  to  "  compass  the 
camp  of  the  saints  and  the  beloved  city"  (Rev.  xx.  9). 
Revealed  first  in  a  serpentine  form,  preparatory  to  his 
entrance  into  the  human  soul  (both  intrusions,  perhaps, 
being  necessary  to  his  power  over  the  brute  and  the  rational 
creations),  in  that  form,  as  if  to  recall  the  prolonged  identity 
of  his  nature  and  agency,  is  he  spoken  of  in  the  closing 
scenes  of  the  latter  days,  when,  as  we  read,  an  angel  shall 
"  lay  hold  on  the  dragon,  that  old  seiyent,  which  is  the  devil 
and  Satan."  These  declarations,  with  others  already  cited, 
that  regard  the  servitude  of  sin,  sufficiently  detect  the  true 
source  of  this  world's  wickedness;  but  when  we  read  of 
this  evil  principle  as  "a  spirit  loorhing  in  the  disobedient," 
and  when  we  remember  the  expressions  of  St  Paul  regard- 
ing the  inherency  yet  distinctness  of  sin,  and  when  we  con- 
sider more  closely  the  very  nature  of  spiritual  influences, 
we  can  scarcely  refuse  to  recognize  in  this  diabolical  agency 
no  distant  or  accidental  operation,  but  the  very  thing  we 
all  can  feel  yet  none  can  explain ;  that  indwelling  tyranny, 
separate  from  the  man,  but  utterly  incorporated  with  the 
man,  which  is  so  mysteriously  interwoven  in  his  nature  that 
the  will  is  a  will  and  yet  a  captive,  and  the  tyrant  and  the 
slave  blended  inconceivably  in  one.     Perfectly  correspond- 


SERM.  XXI.]  of  the  Spirits  Adrcnt.  3-i9 

ent  to  this,  and  neither  more  nor  less  inexplicahle  than  this 
is,  the  spirit  of  the  second  Adam  inheres  in  the  human  souL 

SpecuLations  that  undertake  to  exphain  this  mystery  are 
an  infallible  proof  that  the  speculator  does  not  understand 
either  the  place  of  the  mystery  or  the  conditions  of  an  ex- 
planation. To  explain  a  fact  is  to  resolve  it  into  facts  more 
general ;  but  these  facts  are  absolutely  unique  in  creation. 
But  it  would  show  equal  short-sightedness  to  affirm  that 
the  ameliorative  addition  is  more  truly  mysterious  than 
the  corruptive  addition,  or  this  latter  less  certain  from  the 
evidence  of  conscience  than  the  fact  of  a  will  is  from  the 
evidence  of  consciousness.  The  pulpit  is  scarcely  the  place 
for  metaphysical  discussion,  but  the  course  of  the  subject 
has  now  brought  us  so  directly  in  front  of  tlie  great  general 
objection  against  the  possibility  of  extrinsic  influence  on  a 
will,  that,  in  order  to  remove  this  obstacle  to  receiving  the 
scriptural  revelation,  I  must  ask  your  special  attention  to  a 
few  sentences. 

For  the  freedom  of  the  will,  that  is,  for  the  will  itself, 
which  is  essentially  free,  there  are  two  requisites :  first, 
that  the  will  should  be  self-delerminant,  so  that  every  action 
is  its  own  action ;  and,  secondly,  that  there  should  exist  a 
true  choice^  in  which  notion  there  is  always  a  possibility 
implied  of  the  will  taking  a  course  contrary  to  that  Avhich 
is  in  fact  taken.  These  two  characteristics  seem  to  be 
essential  to  the  formal  essence  of  the  human  (or,  indeed, 
of  any)  will.  Being  totally  different  from  every  physical 
operation  or  event,  they  cannot  be  illustrated  by  anything 
in  nature.  From  the  existence  of  such  essential  properties, 
it  would  seem  to  follow  (as  the  objectors  earnestly  maintain) 
that  a  connection  of  causality  cannot  be  admitted  possible 
between  any  extrinsic  agent  and  a  will,  without  the  latter 
instantly  losing  its  very  essence;  and,  consequently,  that, 
at  best,  the  Pelagian  theory  which  confines  spiritual  aids 
to  the  mere  suggestion  of  motives,  must  comprehend  the 
entire  operations  of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  the  heart  of  man. 
30 


350  ChrisCs  Departure  the  Condition      [SERM.  XXI. 

But  to  this  I  reply,  that  their  own  system  admits  the 
human  will  to  transcend  all  the  laws  of  physical  experience; 
that,  therefore,  it  is  7iot  demonstrahhj  impossible  (and  this  is 
all  which  I  am  called  upon  to  establish)  that  a  connection 
may  subsist  between  tAvo  wills  or  spirits,  distinct  from  the 
particular  physical  connection  of  cause  and  effect,  which 
nevertheless  may  be  as  true  a  connection  as  direct  causality, 
and  attended  with  as  real  results.  To  say  that  this  is  in- 
conceivable by  human  imagination,  and  unexampled  in 
human  experience,  is  only  to  attribute  to  it  the  character 
which  belongs  to  every  possible  account  of  the  subject. 
The  question  is,  whether,  when  the  entire  matter  is  ad- 
mitted to  overpass  the  laws  of  physical  experience  (as  is 
granted  in  the  coufession  of  those  adversaries  who  deny 
the  applicability  to  it  of  the  physically  universal  law  of 
causation),  we  are  to  be  precluded  from  supposing  that 
another  unknown  mode  of  connection  may  exist,  because, 
forsooth,  unprecedented  in  that  experience  which  the  case 
is  allowed  to  transcend.  Nor  is  it  to  be  objected,  that  we 
designate  this  connection  (as  Scripture  also  does)  by  titles 
which  seem  to  imply  direct  mechanical  causation  ;  that  we 
call  it  the  guidance,  or  governance,  or  direction  of  the  will; 
the  necessity  for  such  terms  is  found  in  the  restricted  con- 
ceptions, and,  consequently,  restricted  phraseology  of  men. 
But  the  course  of  our  reasoning  has  long  since  insinuated 
the  important  observation,  that  the  general  strain  of  Scrip- 
ture really  points  to-  a  connection  between  the  sjjirit  of  a 
man  and  the  Spirit  of  the  eternal  God,  distinct  from  literal 
causality.  We  have  seen  that  it  speaks  of  a  mysterious 
indwelling  or  incorporation,  by  which  the  will  of  man, 
without  losing  its  essential  self-activity  and  personal  choice 
in  relation  to  an  understood  law,  and,  therefore,  without 
losing  that  responsibility  and  susceptibility  of  retribution, 
which  depend  upon  them  and  upon  them  alone,  does 
become  blended  with  the  abiding  spirit  of  good  or  of  evil ; 
and,  receiving  into  it  a  principle  of  life  or  death,  is  modified 


SERM.  XXT.]  of  fJie  Spirit's  Advent.  351 

accordingly.  No  man  can  adequately  explain  tlic  fact; 
but  no  man  can  warrantably  pronounce  it  either  impossible 
in  itself,  or  contradictory  to  the  essence  and  definition  of  a 
human  will.  It  is  vain  to  assert  that  such  a  combination 
is  unsupported  by  analogical  experience,  for  it  does  not 
appeal  to  the  analogies  of  experience ;  it  is  vain  to  say  that 
it  is  unwitnessed  by  consciousness,  for  it  passes  in  a  region 
to  which  consciousness  cannot  attain. 

When  we  term  this  supernatural  fact  an  indwelling j 
whether  of  sin,  or  of  Christ  and  Ilis  Spirit,  we  do  so,  partly 
in  order  to  preserve,  with  scrupulous  and  reverential  accu- 
racy, the  pregnant  expressions  of  inspiration  ;  partly  be- 
cause this  kind  of  language  seems  to  come  nearest  to 
figuring,  in  the  forms  of  sense,  the  mysterious  intimacy  of 
this  spiritual  connection.  But  besides  this,  we  are  to  re- 
member, that  thouQ^h  this  marvellous  visitant  from  heaven 
be  thus  seated  in  the  spirit  of  man,  its  efficacy  is  represented 
as  extending  to  the  body ;  to  the  body,  whether  in  itself 
and  exclusively,  or  as  destined  to  be  perpetuated  substan- 
tially hereafter,  or  as  the  temporary  representative  of  a 
nobler  material  organism,  which  is  to  enshrine  the  Spirit 
in  glory.  It  is  the  awful  charge  of  the  Apostle,  that  we 
should  remember  our  bodies  are  "temples  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  which  is  in  us,  which  we  have  from  God  ;"  and 
that  bodily  purity  should  be  based  upon  this  high 
conviction.  We  are  told  that  this  gift  so  far  affects  our 
corporeal  nature,  that  "He  who  raised  up  Christ  from 
the  dead  shall  also  quicken  our  mortal  bodies  by  His  Spirit 
that  dwelleth  in  us."  This  union,  then,  profoundly 
spiritual,  is  yet  so  far  connected  with  the  body  and  Avith 
its  concerns,  as  to  be  fitly  expressed  in  language  that 
regards  and  includes  them ;  and,  even  as  spiritual,  it  is,  in 
the  same  sense  as  the  Spirit  itself  to  which  it  attaches, 
capable  of  the  language  of  location  and  inherency. 

In  everything  of  this  transcendent  nature  the  concep- 
tions and  phraseology  of  sense  can   only  allegorize  the 


352  Christ's  Departure  the  Condition      [SERM.  xxi. 

trutli ;  but  they  are  at  least  as  admissible  here  as  in  the 
ordinary  reasonings  of  natural  theology.  If  the  universal 
activity  of  God  in  creation  be  concluded  to  infer  an  uni- 
versal presence  of  God,  as  Creator  and  Sustainer;  if  re- 
garding a  Being,  who  from  His  nature  can  have  no  proper 
relation  to  place  at  all,  our  best  notion  of  the  presence  is 
derived  from  the  activity,  so  that  wherever  we  witness 
eminent  results  of  the  activity,  there  we  sa}^  Pie  is  emi- 
nently present;  how  much  more  (even  apart  from  the 
inspired  intimations)  should  we  indulge  the  holy  confidence 
of  pronouncing  Him,  in  the  fullest  sense  our  feeble  concep- 
tions will  admit,  most  intensely  present  where  He  is  most 
divinely  active,  of  knowing  Him  spiritually  omnipresent, 
as  God  the  Sanctifier,  no  less  than  naturally  omnipresent, 
as  God  the  Creator !  The  Spirit  of  God,  consecrating  the 
inanimate  elements,  "moved  on  the  face  of  the  waters," 
and  thus  made  itself  successively  present  to  all  the  heaving 
mass ;  surely  we  might  trust  that  the  intimacy  of  opera- 
tion, shadowed  in  this  language,  would  be  more  perfectly 
realized,  when  the  agent  had  become  the  Spirit  of  holiness, 
infusing  the  harmony  of  a  diviner  life,  even  "  the  Jaw  of 
the  jSjnrit  of  life"  into  the  darker  chaos  of  the  soul. 
Whatever  be  the  nature  of  the  union  which  has  such  an 
agent  and  such  an  object  as  this, — the  agent  an  Almighty 
Spirit,  the  object,  the  renovation  of  a  lost  soul  unto  the 
image  and  eternal  companionship  of  Christ, — we  may  well 
conclude  that  nothing  remote  can  reach  it;  that  the  new 
creation,  to  be  wrought  at  all,  must  be  wrought  as  an 
energy,  and  an  abiding  inseparable  energy ;  that,  as  the  life 
of  nature  is  the  manifestation  of  a  principle  permanent 
and  inward,  so  is  the  life  of  grace ;  that  men  must  not  only 
be  subject  to  the  Spirit,  but  ^^ have  the  Spirit;"  that  the 
drawing  of  the  Father  must  be,  not  by  outward  compul- 
sions, but  by  inward  attractions;  and  the  promise,  not  to 
"guide"  us  only,  but  to  "put  a  new  spirit  u-ithin  us." 
When,  from  general  reasonings  of  this  kind,  that  tend 


SEEM.  XXI.]  of  the  Spirit's  Advent,  353 

to  remove  apparent  obstacles  and  predispose  for  tlie  con- 
viction, we  pass  to  the  Scriptures  themselves,  we  discover 
the  clearest  intimations  that  the  new  creation  does  consist 
of,  or  arise  out  of,  this  glorious  element  added  to  our  nature, 
and  permanently,  appropriately  ours.  Some  of  these  have 
been  already  noticed,  and  many  must,  to  such  hearers  as  I 
address,  have  been  suggested  by  the  mere  course  of  the 
argument.  A  few  brief  considerations  may  direct  and 
quicken  the  current  of  your  own  subsequent  reflections. 
I  do  not  pretend  to  exhaust  the  subject,  but  simply  to  set 
you  thinking  on  it. 

1.  We  find  the  spiritual  recipiency  of  Christ  constantly 
represented  as  truly  a  recipiency^  in  distinction  from  an 
operation  merely  external ;  sometimes  by  such  phrases  as 
the  "dwelling  of  Christ  by  faith,"  the  "being  filled"  with 
His  fulness,  the  possessing  "Him  in  us  as  we  are  in  Ilim," 
and  innumerable  others,  referring  directly  either  to  Christ, 
or  to  the  Spirit  as  His  gift;  sometimes  by  a  peculiar  body 
of  metaphors  appropriated  (as  a  kind  of  verbal  sacraments) 
to  the  mystery,  such  as  those  of  the  "living  water,"  and 
the  "bread  of  life,"  or  "living  bread  which  cometh  down 
from  heaven,"  the  flesh  and  blood  to  be  eaten  and  drank  ; 
the  receiving  and  incorporation  of  nutriment  being  the 
most  interior,  and  permanent,  and  necessary  of  physical 
processes,  at  once  blending  itself  with  the  body  by  assimi- 
lation, and  modifying  its  entire  condition  by  its  own  salutary 
qualities,  increasing  the  substance  of  the  body,  yet  undis- 
tinguishable  from  it  by  the  closest  inspection.  The  sixth 
chapter  of  St  John's  Gospel  is,  indeed,  decisive  of  the 
point ;  and  those  whose  fastidious  criticism  is  impatient  of 
mystery  in  the  story  of  a  communion  between  man  and 
his  incomprehensible  Creator,  would  do  well  to  remember, 
that  it  was  at  this  discourse  that  "  many  of  His  disciples 
went  back,  and  walked  no  more  with  Him,"  while  the 
happy  faith  of  a  Peter,  whose  understanding  could  soar  no 
higher  than  theirs,  upon  a  point  which  levels  the  intellect 

30- 


854  Christ''s  Departure  the  Condition      [seem.  xxi. 

of  a  ISTewton  and  of  an  infant,  was  enabled  to  cry,  "  Lord, 
to  whom  shall  we  go  ?  Thou  hast  the  words  of  eternal 
life!" 

2.  But  metaphors,  realized  in  actions,  are  still  more 
expressive ;  and  in  the  Eucharistic  sacrament  is  perpetuated 
an  image  of  the  great  gift  of  the  Gospel  sanctification, 
which  no  man  can  misconceive;  an  image,  the  value  of 
which,  for  my  present  purpose,  is  altogether  independent 
of  any  particular  opinion  as  to  the  blessing  attached  to  the 
rite  itself.  How  far  soever  that  holy  sacrament  be  exalted 
or  depressed,  the  living  allegory  of  the  rite  still  evidences 
the  point  now  at  issue;  that  tlie  grace  abides  internally, 
and  that,  through  whatever  instrumentality,  it  consists  in 
a  true  incorporation  of  Christ  with  our  human  nature. 

8.  The  same  principle  is  at  least  recognized  in  those 
parables  which  speak  of  the  kingdom  of  God  within  us,  or 
the  blessing  won  and  offered  by  Christ,  nnder  the  figure  of 
a  seed  sown  by  a  celestial  husbandman,  of  a  plant  planted 
by  the  Father,  of  the  internal  communication  of  vegetable 
life  from  vine  to  branches,  of  a  hidden  treasure,  of  an  in- 
trusted talent,  of  a  holy  leaven.  It  forms  the  very  soul  of 
that  prayer  with  which  our  Lord  solemnly  closed  His 
ministry,  and  in  which  His  anxious  heart  fondly  viewed  ' 
the  Church  as  He  would  have  it. 

4.  But  perhaps,  above  all,  the  reality  of  this  divine 
presence,  permanently  lodged  in  the  soul,  is  illustrated  by 
the  contrasted  cases  of  demoniacal  possession  and  the 
miraculous  gifts  of  the  Spirit.  We  have  seen  that  the 
original  inhabitancy  of  man  by  the  evil  spirit  was  followed 
(as  its  remedy,  and  doubtless  its  only  possible  remedy)  by 
the  divine  Incarnation.  Now  it  is  surely  remarkable  that, 
at  nearly  the  same  period,  each  of  these  combinations  of  a 
strange  element  with  human  nature  (the  evil  excited  into 
intenser  activity  by  the  immediate  presence  of  the  Perfec- 
tion of  Holiness  impersonated  in  Christ)  should  have  mani- 
fested itself  in  the  subjects  of  Satan  and  the  regenerate  of 


SERM.  XXL]  of  the  Spirit's  Advent.  355 

God,  in  visible  proofs;  the  Satanic  in  the  jiublic  extraor- 
dinary presence  of  evil  s[)irits  from  licU;  the  divine  in  the 
public  extraordinary  presence  of  the  Holy  Spirit  from 
heaven.  As  then  the  one  was  the  real  introduction  of  a 
distinct  element  into  our  nature,  so  likewise  was  the  other ; 
as  the  possession  by  demons  was  the  outward  and  tempo- 
rary exhibition  of  a  secret  and  perpetual  indwelling,  so  was 
the  preternatural  energy  of  the  Spirit,  in  the  apostolic  age,  a 
pledge  and  proof  of  His  real  inherency,  as  a  spirit  of  per- 
petual guidance  and  abiding  love.  Views  like  these,  of  the 
true  source  of  human  vice  and  virtue  since  the  fall,  seem 
constantly  discoverable  in  the  early  Church,  and  were 
conspicuously  marked  in  the  form  of  exorcism  accom- 
panying Baptism,  a  form  whose  Spirit  is  preserved  in  that 
interrogatory  of  our  Kitual,  which  demands  the  solemn 
renunciation  of  the  devil  and  his  works.  It  is,  further, 
highly  probable  that,  since  the  era  of  the  Incarnation  of 
Christ,  loth  the  antagonist  powers  have  increased  in  energy 
by  nearly  parallel  augmentations.  Undoubtedly  this  is 
the  true  reason  why  the  greatest  of  revolutions  in  the 
spiritual  history  of  man  has  as  yet  produced  effects  so  dis- 
proportionate to  its  dignity  and  to  prophetic  promise. 
This  supposition  also  illustrates  a  ^qtj  remarkable  fact, 
that  the  most  fearful  exhibitions  of  human  vice,  since  the 
Christian  era,  have  notoriously  had  relation  to  religion ; 
being  either  internal  corruptions  or  external  assaults ; 
either  such  terrific  manifestations  within  the  Church  as  the 
Roman  Inquisition,  or  against  it,  as  the  inlidel  Revolution 
of  the  last  century.  It  is  obvious  that  this  character  and 
cast  of  human  crime,  which  unbelievers  exult  in  proclaim- 
ing to  be  peculiar  to  the  times  of  the  Christian  dispensation, 
betrays  a  special  concentration  of  the  whole  armament  of 
darkness  upon  a  single  point,  the  victory  and  kingdom  of 
Christ.  And  thus,  if  the  stability  of  the  Church  be  an 
evidence  on  the  one  hand,  its  misfortunes  are  scarcely  less 
an  evidence  on  the  other ! 


356  Christ'' s  Departure  the  Condition      [SERM.  xxi. 

Oil  tlie  whole,  tlien,  and  to  conclude  tliis  part  of  the 
subject,  whether  we  regard  the  divine  presence  of  Christ 
Himself  as  necessarily  requiring  the  agency  of  the  Spirit, 
or  the  equally  divine  presence  of  that  Holy  Spirit  in 
person  as  the  gift  of  Christ,  and  in  Him  the  hidden  source 
of  every  godly  motion  in  man,  we  can  see,  upon  large  and 
general  grounds,  that  we  are  warranted  in  joyfully  recog- 
nizing a  double  blessing  appropriate  to  our  Christian 
callino-;  we  can  see  that  He  who  said  "I  will  not  leave 
you  comfortless,  /  will  come  to  you,"  and  a  little  after 
"  the  Comforter  whom  I  loill  send  unto  you  shall  testify 
of  me,"  has  truly  fulfilled  both  promises,— the  promise  of 
coming  and  the  promise  of  sending;  we  can  see  that  the 
Third  Person  of  the  blessed  Trinity  is  no  superfluous  agent 
in  this  work  of  preparatory  salvation,  but  hath  His  office 
distinct.  His  credentials  authentic,  His  work  in  the  Church 
permanent  as  evil  itself,  because  to  it  permanently  coun- 
teractive, and  more  permanent  than  evil,  because  eternally 
surviving  as  the  inward  principle  of  the  life  of  glory, 
when  the  powers  of  evil  shall  have  been  finally  destroyed. 

III.  Upon  the  third  division  of  our  general  subject, 
little  time  is  now  left  to  speak.  A  very  few  remarks  must 
suffice  for  the  present.  As  the  text  has  invited  us  to  con- 
sider the  propriety  of  the  government  of  the  Church  by 
an  invisible  head,  and  the  propriety  of  the  agency  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  as  Paraclete,  in  conducting  the  work,  so  now 
we  have,  for  our  brief  contemplation,  the  propriety  of  the 
departure  as  the  condition  of  the  gift:  "7/"  I  go  not  away, 
the  Comforter  will  not  come  unto  you." 

It  is  clear  that  our  Lord  here  speaks  of  His  ascension 
to  the  Father,  as  the  departure  which  was  necessarily  to 
precede  the  advent  of  the  Comforter.  Some  difficulty, 
however,  intervenes,  when  we  remember  a  solemn  consign- 
ment of  the  Holy  Ghost,  which  appears  to  have  occurred 
previous  to  the  exalation  of  our  Lord.  The  "Receive  ye 
the   Holy  Ghost"  of  Jolm  xx,  22,  seems  to  have  been  a 


SERM.  xxr.]  of  the  Spirit's  Advent.  357 

pledge  of  the  gift  to  come,  designed  for  the  purpose  of 
referring  it  visibly  to  Christ  as  its  source ;  and,  at  all  events, 
had  its  principal  relation  to  the  transmission  of  spiritual 
authority^  as  appears  evident  from  the  context.  Indeed 
from  the  absence,  which  the  Evangelist  notes,  of  one  of 
the  Apostles  during  this  interview,  we  may  collect  that  no 
internal  endowment  was  here  communicated,  as  our  Lord 
would  scarcely  select,  for  the  bestowal  of  an  inward  bless- 
ing, common  to  all  His  missionaries,  an  occasion  when 
"  they  were"  not  "  all  with  one  accord  in  one  place ;"  while 
the  absence  of  a  member  would  not  affect  the  force  of  an 
emblematic  signification,  either  of  a  blessing  to  come,  or 
of  authority  appertaining  to  the  apostolic  character.  In 
Luke  xxiv.  49,  he  speaks  in  the  present,  yet  transfers  the 
purport  to  the  future :  "  Behold,  I  send  the  promise  of  my 
Father  upon  yon :  but  tarry  ye  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem, 
until  ye  be  endued  with  power  from  on  high."  Yet  I 
think  it  beautifully  observable  (as  marking  the  inevitable 
connection  between  Christ's  triumph,  in  all  its  degrees^  and 
the  spiritual  prosperity  of  His  people)  that  the  enlighten- 
ment seems  to  have  faintly  begun  on  the  very  day  of  His 
Resurrection ;  the  twilight  is  already  visible  of  the  noontide 
to  come.  "Did  not  our  hearts  hum  within  us^  while  he 
talked  with  ^is  by  the  way  ?"  said  the  two  travellers  to 
Emmaus.  The  same  day  at  eve  He  was  among  the  eleven, 
and  He  ^^ opened  their  understandings^  that  tliey  might  under- 
stand the  Scriptures."  Yet,  to  evince  that  the  fulness  of 
the  endowment  was  not  yet  come,  we  find  that  at  His 
appearance  in  Galilee  (probably  His  eighth  recorded  mani- 
festation) "some  doubted;"  and  though  during  the  forty 
days  of  His  resurrection  life  He  spoke,  as  St  Luke  tells  us, 
"  of  things  pertaining  to  the  kingdom  of  God,"  yet,  even 
as  He  was  about  to  ascend,  thoughts  were  uttered  that  be- 
trayed how  much  of  earth  still  lingered  in  their  conceptions 
of  that  kingdom:  "They  asked  of  Him,  saying.  Lord,  wilt 
thou  at  this  time  restore  again  the  kingdom  to  Israel  P 


358  Ohnsfs  Departure  the  Condition      [SERM.  xxi. 

He  rose,  and,  in  the  attitude  of  blessing,  vanished  from 
their  sight ;  and  even  then  it  is  scarcely  fanciful  to  say  we 
seem  to  discover  another  stage  of  spiritual  progress,  as  if 
the  heart  already  rose  as  its  centre  of  divine  attraction 
drew  it  with  itself  towards  heaven :  "  They  returned  to 
Jerusalem  icith  great  joy ^  and  were  continually  in  the  temple 
2:)raising  and  blessing  GodP  But  when  the  gift, — the  long 
promised,  the  transcendent  gift, — itself  appeared,  how 
sudden,  how  ineffably  glorious  is  the  change !  The  mo- 
mentous day  is  come  and  past,  and  then  for  the  outburst 
not  of  light  only  but  of  love!  It  is  not  that  the  fishermen 
of  Galilee  are  calmly  solving  the  problem  of  man ; — it  is 
not  that  Peter,  who  just  now  denied,  in  abject  terror,  a 
persecuted  master,  stands  forth  the  majestic  teacher  of  a 
world,  and  announces,  through  a  vista  of  tears  and  blood, 
the  true  character  of  that  very  fact  with  which  not  many 
days  before  he  had  trembled  to  avow  himself  remotely 
connected :  "  Jesus,  being  delivered  by  the  determinate 
counsel  and  foreknowledgs  of  God,  ye  have  tahen^  and  by 
tviched  hands  have  crucified  and  slain  :"  it  is  not  here  I  love 
to  read  the  Spirit  of  the  ascended  Saviour,  though  this  is 
surely  wonderful.  Deeper  and  holier  is  the  wonder  with 
which  the  Christian  eye  beholds  the  "Comforter"  of  all 
ages,  the  abiding  Spirit  of  peace  and  love,  the  Paraclete  of 
the  heart,  revealed  in  the  simple  narrative  that  follows,  and 
that  almost  eclipses  the  miraculous  speech  of  an  Apostle 
with  the  life  of  three  thousand  brethren :  "  And  all  that 
believed  had  all  things  common ;  and  sold  their  posses- 
sions and  goods,  and  parted  them  to  all  men  as  every  man 
had  needP'' 

The  true  nature  or  ultimate  o^round  of  the  connexion 
which  subsisted  between  the  Ascension  of  Christ  into 
heaven,  and  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  enrich  the 
Church,  is,  of  course,  to  us  quite  incomprehensible.  The 
economy  of  the  spiritual  world  being  as  certainly  regulated 
by  immutable  laws  of  divine  wisdom  as  that  of  the  world 


SEKM.  XXI.]  of  the  Sinrit's  Advent.  359 

of  sensible  experience,  we  may  conceive  that  one  event  as 
necessary  a  pre-condition  to  the  otlier,  as  the  members  of 
any  physical  sequence  whatever.  And  when  we  remember 
the  limits  of  our  knowledge  in  the  latter  case,  we  need  not 
be  much  surprised  at  our  ignorance  in  the  former.  In  both 
alike  we  can  but  observe  the  facts,  and  compare  them  with 
others  that  resemble  or  seem  to  resemble ;  both  alike,  and 
both  equally,  are  bottomed  in  mystery.  To  observe  simi- 
larities and  harmonies  in  truths  themselves  mysterious,  is, 
therefore,  legitimate,  or  physical  science  itself  is  not  legiti- 
mate. Observe,  then,  how  some  of  these  spiritual  repre- 
sentations seem  to  wear  the  same  expression,  as  if  different 
embodyiuG^s  of  one  common  fundamental  idea. 

No  one,  whose  inmost  spirit  has  been  busy  with  the  Xew 
Testament,  can  fail  to  be  aware,  that  there  is  everywhere 
a  profound  community,  or  even  identity,  of  nature,  inti- 
mated, between  the  heavenly  world  itself,  and  a  state  of 
spiritual-mindedness  on  earth,  altogether  transcending  the 
mere  notion  of  recompense  or  sequel.  It  is  as  if  heaven 
itself  was  already,  though  faintly,  realized  in  the  soul ;  and 
that  some  rather  accidental  than  essential  obstacle  delayed 
its  consummation ;  as  if  the  sanctified  spirit  were  tliere^  but, 
from  a  temporary  defect  of  vision,  could  not  see  or  enjoy  it, 
A  local  and  bodily  change  is,  indeed,  announced,  but  in 
terms  so  vague  as  to  baffle  all  conjecture  as  to  its  real 
nature  or  amount;  while  it  is  everywhere  so  inwoven  with 
a  spiritual  element,  as  to  give  a  manifest  predominance  to 
the  latter,  and  that  latter  not  generically  distinguishable  from 
the  principle  of  present  holiness.  Now  if  a  connection  so 
intimate  do  subsist  between  the  two  departments  of  the 
great  empire  of  grace,  which  yet  are  separated,  and  the  one 
to  the  other  subordinate,  it  seems  highly  consistent,  to  say 
no  more,  that  the  particular  mode  of  connection  now  contem- 
plated should  be  found  to  obtain ;  that  the  ground  or  prin- 
ciple of  the  one  should  emanate  directly  from  the  other ; 
that  that  seed  should   be  issued  originally  from  heaven, 


360  Ghrist^s  Departure  the  Condition      [SERM.  xxi. 

wiiicli  is  to  flower  here  as  heaven's  image,  and  to  bear  its 
immortal  fruits  in  heaven's  own  climate ;  that  the  perfect 
should  impregnate  the  imperfect  nnto  the  fulness  of  its  own 
perfection ;  that  Christ,  our  mediator,  representative,  and 
head,  should,  in  the  celestial  state  of  being,  and  in  it  only, 
be  capacitated  to  obtain  that  celestial  element,  which,  "urged 
downwards,  was  to  pervade,  and,  by  its  upward  tendency, 
to  elevate.  His  earthly  body.  But  again,  among  the 
glimpses  of  the  divine  economy  that  we  gain  in  revelation, 
we  seem  to  observe  that  the  mysterious  friend  of  man  is 
represented  as  in  QYQYj\h\ng  preparing  the  way  for  the  pro- 
gress of  His  Church,  from  stage  to  stage  of  its  course,  until 
at  length  it  have  touched  the  very  throne,  on  which  it  shall 
behold  Him  already  seated.  It  is  the  appropriate  function 
of  the  "  Captain  of  Salvation"  to  be  ever  in  the  front  rank 
of  the  march  of  suffering  and  of  glory ;  of  the  army  of  the 
cross,  to  cover  the  ground  that  He  has  left.  The  point 
under  consideration  is  visibly  accordant  with  the  spirit  of 
this  law.  Christ,  having  reached  His  goal,  and  not  till 
then,  bequeaths  to  His  followers  the  graces  that  invested 
His  own  earthly  course ;  the  ascending  Elijah  leaves  His 
mantle  behind  Him.  It.  is  only  an  extension  of  the  same 
principle,  that,  the  declared  office  of  the  Holy  Spirit  being 
to  complete  the  image  of  Christ  in  every  faithful  follower, 
by  effecting  in  this  world  a  spiritual  death  and  resurrection 
and  ascension, — a  point  attested  in  every  apostolic  epistle, 
— the  image  could  not  be  stamped  until  the  reality  had 
been  wholly  accomplished ;  the  divine  artist  could  not  fitly 
descend  to  make  the  copy,  before  the  entire  original  had 
been  provided.  The  sacred  writers,  again,  represent  a  con- 
nection between  these  great  events,  of  another  kind ;  the 
Holy  Spirit  was  the  fruit  of  a  victory,  and  dispensed  as  the 
gift  of  triumph ;  it  ought  not,  then,  to  be  given,  till  the 
triumph  was  consummated  by  the  entrance  into  glory ;  it 
could  not  be  given  till  the  victory  was  publicly  evidenced 
by  the  appearance  of  the  living  sacrifice, — priest  and  victor, 


SERM.  XXL]  of  the  SpiriCs  Advent.  361 

— in  tlie  presence  of  the  expectant  Father;  the  enlargement 
of  the  k.mg^om  following  naturally  and  immediately  on  the 
recognized  defeat  of  the  power  of  evil,  by  the  principle  of 
righteousness  incarnate  in  Christ.  They  speak,  too,  though 
briefly  and  dimly,  of  a  douhle  work  of  advocacy,  of  a  "  high 
priest  who  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us,"  of  a 
"  spirit  interceding  on  our  behalf  with  unutterable  groan- 
ings ;"  and  these,  perhaps,  must  rightly  belong  to  distinct 
spheres  of  being,  holding  their  of&ces  in  the  worlds  of  hap- 
piness and  of  trial  respectively,  and  in  the  very  distinction 
substantially  uniting  them.  All  these  things,  exhibiting, 
in  various  aspects,  the  cardinal  truth  of  the  text,  "  the  Com- 
forter comes  not  unless  I  depart,"  are,  doubtless,  linked  by 
an  invisible  bond,  and  resolve  into  some  common  idea 
which  rests  upon  the  very  essence  of  the  spiritual  itself 
They  are  all  developments,  in  different  forms,  some  nearer, 
some  more  remote,  of  that  primary  principle  in  the  nature 
of  things,  which  makes  man  capable  of  exaltation,  through 
the  exaltation  of  his  nature  in  a  divine  representative.  We 
cannot  follow  every  step  that  conducts  them  to  their  last 
original,  but  we  can  see  in  them  all  the  traces  of  a  common 
descent;  we  catch  them  as  fragmentary  glimpses  of  one 
vast  and  harmonious  system,  whose  remote  connections  and 
dependencies  retreat  from  the  eye  into  fathomless,  impene- 
trable mystery. 

But,  if  "  secret  things  belong  unto  the  Lord  our  God," 
"  those  things  which  are  revealed  belong  to  us  and  to  our 
children  for  ever."  The  great  facts,  with  which  I  have  en- 
gaged 3^ou,  are  equally  true,  however  we  explain  their 
mutual  bearing;  we  rejoice  to  know  that  the  precious 
inheritance  of  faith  is  independent  of  the  success  of  human 
speculation.  It  is  certain  that  we  live  under  a  government 
all-seeing  but  unseen ;  that  Christ  is  still  among  us  in  Him- 
self and  by  His  Spirit ;  that  He  disappeared  from  the  eye, 
as  the  condition  of  descending  with  a  new  power  into  the 
heart.  These  things  are  the  blessed  objects  of  our  faith  and 
31 


362  Chrish  Departure  the  Condition      [serm.  XXI. 

hope,  whether  we  can  see  or  not  see  their  reciprocal  corre- 
spondences. It  is  certain  that  we  possess  our  Lord,  by  a 
presence  more  real  and  more  intimate  than  he  enjoyed,  who 
"  lay  in  the  bosom  of  Jesus."  "  Christ  in  us,  the  hope  of 
glory,"  abides  with  power  and  vitality,  such  as  His  bodily 
presence  never  diffused.  "  He  hath  ascended  up  far  above 
all  heavens,"  but  it  is  "  that  He  might  fill  all  things^  In 
designating  His  Church  the  "kingdom  of  heaven,"  and  "of 
God,"  does  He  not  Himself  blend  in  one  wondrous  transit 
His  passage  into  the  highest  heavens,  and  into  this  lower 
province  of  the  same  heavenly  empire  'I  That  that  myste- 
rious translation  was  gradual  is  certain,  from  many  expres- 
sions relating  to  it ;  for  aught  we  can  tell,  it  was  accom- 
plished not  till  the  very  day  and  hour  of  the  Pentecostal 
visitation ;  so  that  at  the  same  instant  the  glory  of  His  pre- 
sence might  be  filling  the  holy  of  holies,  and  spreading  into 
this  outward  earthly  sanctuary  of  the  universal  temple.  It 
is  because  of  this  double  immanence,  that  His  very  offices  in 
heaven,  intercessory  and  commemorative,  are  discharged 
by  His  Spirit  in  the  Church,  heaven's  earthly  province. 
Does  He  intercede  with  the  Father  on  the  throne  of  His 
glory  ?  Even  so  is  He  present  and  busy  with  the  two  or 
three  gathered  in  His  name  for  prayer ;  even  so  does  His 
Spirit  intercede  with  unspoken  groanings  in  the  inmost 
heart  of  a  suffering  disciple.  Does  He  make  mention  of 
His  sacrifice,  pleading  on  behalf  of  the  guilty  the  obedience 
unto  death?  Even  so  the  Spirit-guided  Church,  in  the 
most  solemn  rite  of  all  her  services, — even  so  the  Spirit- 
guided  heart,  in  those  hourly  appeals  that  "  make  mention 
of  His  righteousness  only."  He  is  gone,  but  whither? 
Into  the  spiritual  world?  Into  the  spirits  of  His  elect, 
then ;  for  these  are  an  integral  portion  of  that  world.  He 
has  abandoned  a  visible  to  assume  an  invisible  throne.  "It 
is  expedient  that  He  go  away,"  for  thus  He  is  more  bless- 
edly, more  divinely  ours.  The  presence  to  sense  lias 
passed  into  the  presence  in  spirit ;  but  the  presence  itself 


SERM.  XXL]  of  the  SpiriCs  Advent.  363 

has  never  ceased,  it  has  but  deepened  and  closed  around  us. 
Keason  (we  have  seen)  denies  not  the  possil)ility,  reveUxtioii 
pronounces  the  certainty,  of  this  mystical  abiding, — the 
source  of  all  spiritual  blessings,  the  fundamental  idea  (as  I 
believe)  of  all  true  Christian  theology.  Let  it  be  our  prayer, 
that  the  sense  of  such  a  gift  may  move  ns  to  watchfulness, 
purity,  and  godly  fear;  that  we  may  feel  ourselves  holy 
things  set  apart  for  the  uses  of  heaven,  vessels  of  grace  in  the 
temple  of  our  God.  Since  that  temple  was  built  on  earth 
every  sin  became  sacrilege.  Who  shall  dare  pollute  the 
body  that  Christ  has  honored  by  His  adoption  ?  Who  shall 
dare  stain  the  soul  that  Christ  glorifies  with  His  presence  ? 
We  Christians  live  in  a  new  world,  breathe  a  new  air; 
other  suns  are  those  by  which  we  see,  other  voices  are 
those  we  hear.  AVe  dwell  in  Christ  and  Christ  in  us ;  this 
is  our  world,  we  ask  none  else ;  this  is  the  substance  of  our 
hope  here,  as  it  is  to  be  the  substance  of  our  heaven  here- 
after. Heed,  then,  my  beloved  brethren,  earnestly  heed, 
your  high  calling  in  Christ  Jesus ;  glory  in  it,  for  angels 
cannot  match  it !  Guard  it,  for  it  is  the  envy  of  demons  I 
Live  in  it,  for  it  is  the  source  and  principle  of  your  immor- 
tality! Eemember,  with  trembling  joy  remember,  that 
Christ,  in  all  the  power  and  majest}^  of  the  Godhead,  "  is  in 
you,  if  ye  be  not  reprobates  ;" — "  for  ye  are  the  temple  of 
the  living  God,  as  God  hath  said,  I  will  dwell  in  them, 
and  walk  in  them ;  and  I  will  be  their  God,  and  they  shall 
be  my  people !" 


SERMON  XXII 


THE  FAITH  THAT  COMETH  BY  HEARING. 


(Preached  for  the  National  Institution  for  the  Education  of  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Chil- 
dren of  the  Poor  in  Ireland.) 


How  shall  they  believe  in  Him  of  whom  they  have  not  heard  ? — Romans  x.  14. 

There  is  but  one  conceivable  answer  to  this  question  in 
its  large  and  general  sense ;  in  that  sense  wliicb  was  perti- 
nent to  tlie  Apostle's  argument.  Belief  is  impossible, 
where  it  is  impossible  to  convey  any  knowledge  of  the 
subjects  of  belief;  the  body  cannot  digest  without  nutri- 
ment to  engage  its  digestive  functions;  the  mind  cannot 
believe  without  facts  and  propositions  to  occupy  its  believ- 
ing faculty.  ''  Faith  cometh,"  then,  "  by  hearing,"  as  truly 
as  "  hearing  cometh  by" — ariseth  out  of  and  pre-supposeth 
— "  the  word  (or  utterance)  of  God."  The  voice  of  God, 
the  hearing  of  man,  the  consequent  belief, — are  the  three 
necessarily  successive  links  in  the  golden  chain  of  revealed 
salvation.  Sever  the  continuity  of  any  two,  and  the 
electric  spark  cannot  be  transferred  across  the  interval. 
From  the  throne  of  the  Most  High  to  the  ear  of  man,  from 
the  ear  to  the  heart, — is  the  luminous  pathway  of  the 
Spirit.  "How  shall  they  believe  in  Him  of  whom  they 
have  not  heard?" 

I  speak  this  day,  however,  for  an  Institution,  which  is 
one  of  many  that  have  ventured  to  solve  this  problem  in 
its  more  limited  and  literal  sense.     The  happy  ingenuity 


SERM.  XXII.]      llie  Faith  that  cometh  by  Ilearinrj.  805 

of  benevolence  has  conquered  a  difficulty  so  great,  that 
an  Apostle  employed  it  to  symbolize  an  impossibility. 
Patient  observation  quickened  by  love  has  devised  means 
to  open  a  channel  of  natural  communication  between 
heaven  and  these  desolate  hearts.  It  has  wrought  out  a 
system  of  supplementary  organs  for  receiving  and  uttering 
blessings.  The  age  of  miracles  being  past,  Christian 
charity,  animating  the  intellect  to  new  energies,  has  stepped 
in  to  occupy  their  place ;  and  though  no  ardor  of  charity, 
no  potency  of  science,  can  say,  with  the  great  Physician, 
"Thou  dumb  and  deaf  spirit,  come  out  of  him!"  they, 
nevertheless,  can  rob  that  spirit  of  his  deadliest  sting, 
abridge  his  gloomy  prerogatives,  and  startle  his  silent  em- 
pire with  the  triumphant  message  of  salvation  !  Under  the 
efficacy  of  this  incomparable  art,  wonders  are  achieved,  of 
whose  ultimate  value  eternity  alone  shall  tell  the  amount. 
The  slumbering  spirit,  born  in  that  slumber,  awakes  to 
unsuspected  faculties.  There  is,  as  it  were,  a  mental  crea- 
tion renewed.  Originally  capacitated  for  the  skies,  it  starts 
into  knowing  itself  immortal ;  the  soul,  so  long  a  voiceless 
desert,  is  a  desert  no  more,  for  lo  !  "  the  voice  of  one  crying 
in  that  wilderness.  Prepare  ye  the  way  of  the  Lord !  make 
straight  in  the  desert  a  highway  for  our  God !" 

These  are  great  achievements,  they  are  an  honor  alike 
to  the  understanding  and  the  heart  of  man.  Executed  in 
behalf  of  any  class  of  sufferers,  they  would  be  interesting 
and  admirable.  Executed  for  the  poor,  the  helpless,  and 
the  orphan,  they  are  godlike.  They  present  multiplied 
images  of  Him,  who  "  went  about  doing  good,"  and  whose 
chosen  objects  of  charity  were  those  whom  the  world  had 
rejected;  whose  divine  specific  was  tendered  to  those  to 
whom  the  resources  of  medical  art  were  unable  fo  offer  any 
word  of  comfort,  and  cared  not  to  offer  it,  if  they  could. 
Christianity  is  the  foundation  of  these  blessiQgs  not  less 
truly  because  often  circuitously  and  indirectly ;  and  verifies, 
in  innumerable  ways  of  unsuspected  influence  over  the 

31" 


366  The  Faith  that  [SERM.  xxii. 

temporal  state  of  man,  that  she  has  indeed,  in  proportion 
to  her  extension  in  the  world,  "the  promise  of  the  life  that 
now  isj'^  as  well  as  "  of  that  which  is  to  come."  Even  those 
who  are  Christians  more  in  profession  than  principle,  who, 
though  within  the  walls  of  the  Christian  temple,  worship 
only  in  its  outer  courts,  cannot  help  owning  a  sympathy 
with  the  success  of  Christian  labors.  This  divine  visitant 
has  softened  the  universal  temper,  and  made  benevolence 
attractive  even  to  those  who  are  little  influenced  by  the 
peculiar  motives  she  suggests.  The  light  is  reflected  to 
numbers,  who  unhappily  withdraw  themselves  from  the 
cheering  radiance  of  its  directer  beams.  The  very  hem  of 
Christ's  garment  had  virtue;  and  a  kind  of  derived  and 
transitory  blessedness  seems  to  hover  around  even  the 
remotest  thing  connected  with  that  Church,  which  is  His 
mystical  and  earthly  body.  When  Isaiah  "  saw  the  Lord 
sitting  upon  a  throne  high  and  lifted  up,"  "  His  train  filled 
the  temple ;"  even  now  His  image  cannot  be  drawn  down 
from  heaven,  and  realized  on  earth  in  holiness,  without 
filling  its  temporary  habitation  with  a  retinue  of  blessings. 
Men  become  habitually,  and  at  length  almost  instinctively, 
benevolent,  from  the  happy  contagion  of  example.  If  they 
cannot  sympathize  with  the  heavenly,  they  can  appreciate 
the  earthly,  aims  of  charity ;  and  those  who  feel  but  a 
feeble  interest  in  Christian  enterprises,  under  their  spiritual 
aspect,  cannot  but  own  the  work  a  noble  one,  that  labors 
to  lighten  man's  heavy  inheritance  of  icorldly  woe. 

But  the  solemn  duties  of  this  place  and  occasion  demand 
that  I  should  present  to  you  this  matter  mainly  in  its  con- 
nection with  the  eternal  world;  and  though  I  am  not 
sanguine  enough  to  expect  it  from  all,  I  trust  that  in  the 
congregation  I  now  address  I  shall  not  be  without  numbers , 
who  can  feel  such  connections  to  be,  practically,  the  most 
important  of  any.  I  trust  that  there  arc  among  you  many, 
to  whom  the  thankful   acknowledgment  of  God's  "inesti- 

a 

mal)le  love  in  the  redemption  of  the  world"  is   more   than 


SKRM.  XXII.]  Cometh  hij  Hearing.  367 

the  mechanical  expression  of  the  lips ;  who  perpetually 
and  profoundly  feel,  that  the  gift  of  Christ  Jesus  to  sinners 
is  the  master  mercy  of  God  to  man ;  that  the  surrender  of 
a  universe  to  our  enjoyment  could  not  have  competed  with 
the  surrender  of  Himself  its  Author;  nor  the  bestowal  of 
ten  thousand  faculties  unpossessed  before,  with  as  many 
thousand  objects  to  engage  them,  rival  the  value  of  that 
unspeakable  union  by  which  He  lifts  us  to  share  the  throne 
of  His  glory,  now  in  hope,  and  hereafter  in  reality.  The 
weight  of  a  Christian  argument,  heavy  and  oppressive  to 
so  many,  by  such  is  joyfully  borne  ;  for  to  them  it  is  only 
a  new  excursion  through  their  accustomed  regions  of 
thought ;  it  is  only  telling  over,  in  a  new  form  of  compu- 
tation, their  cherished  treasures  ;  it  is  only  contemplating, 
under  new  effects  of  light  and  shadow,  the  old  and  well- 
known  scenery  of  their  dearest  affections. 

"If  any  man  speak,  let  him  speak  as  the  oracles  of  God." 
I  shall  dare  to  plead  for  these  destitute  applicants,  but  on 
grounds  that  reach  the  basis  of  all  Gospel  truth. 

And  perhaps  I  cannot  better  introduce  the  train  of 
observation  with  which  I  would  now  engage  you,  than  by 
relating,  in  simple  phrase,  how  it  originated. 

At  the  period  when  I  received  the  request  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  this  Institution,  that  I  would  undertake  to  repre- 
sent their  case  to  you  this  day,  it  happened  that  I  had  just 
finished  the  perusal  of  a  work  by  one  of  the  most  influ- 
ential thinkers  on  the  Continent,  in  which  it  was  attempted 
to  be  proved,  and  unquestionably  argued  with  great  plausi- 
bility, that  our  religion  (in  the  form  in  which  it  is  ordi- 
narily understood  and  taught)  was  not  only  absolutely 
inefficient  for  the  moral  advancement  of  man,-  but  in  a  high 
degree  an  obstacle  to  his  real  improvement.  Not,  indeed, 
because  the  religion  was  radically  false,  but  because  it  was 
misunderstood  by  the  great  mass  of  its  upholders.  The 
true  millennium  of  our  faith,  he  maintains,  can  only  be 
expected,  in  the  gradual  nnd  at  lenoth  totnl  extraction  of 


368  The  Faith  that  [serm.  xxii. 

everything  mysterious  from  tlie  system  (by  which  is  meant 
every  one  of  its  peculiarities),  and  the  retention  merely  of 
its  simple  code  of  rigorous  morality ;  this  too  to  be  pre- 
served, not  because  revealed  from  heaven,  but  because 
coincident  with  the  dictates  of  enlightened  reason.  This 
adversary,  you  perceive,  is  no  philosophical  voluptuary 
(such  as  our  religion  has  had  so  often  to  encounter),  no 
logical  justifier  of  sensuality,  who  (in  the  words  of  the 
royal  preacher)  "  seeks  to  give  his  heart  unto  wine,  yet 
acquainting  himself  with  wisdom."  Not  at  all.  Satan  is 
now  the  "angel  of  light,"  and  reasons  as  such.  This 
author,  the  patriarch  of  rationalism,  professes  (and  I  believe 
sincerely,  with  the  sincerity  of  profound  self-deception)  no 
object,  but  the  moral  benefit  of  mankind,  and  the  purifica- 
tion of  Christianity  to  its  designed  perfection.  His  views 
(which  are  those  of  a  vast  party  on  the  Continent,  and,  I 
fear,  an  increasing  party  in  Britain)  are  professedly  directed 
not  to  degrade,  but  to  elevate,  not  to  relax,  but  tighten, 
the  bonds  of  duty.  And  when  he  assails  the  historical 
foundations  of  our  religion,  and  the  very  notion  of  a  his- 
torical religion,  as  capable  of  universal  dissemination  or 
influence,  he  believes  himself  zealously  laboring  to  remove 
a  dangerous  obstacle  to  that  high  and  holy  consummation. 
I  laid  aside  the  volume,  at  the  moment  touched,  it  might 
be,  more  than  1  would  to  myself  admit,  by  the  boldness 
and  power  of  its  statements ;  and  I  took  up  the  circular 
with  its  list  of  sixty  desolate  beings,  many  of  them  orphans 
of  father  and  mother,  all  of  them  the  orphans  of  nature, 
whom  I  was  asked  to  present  to  your  charity.  Alas !  I 
thought,  if  the  representations  of  this  party  be  true,  if  the 
Christianity  we  commonly  preach  be  but  the  cumbrous 
vehicle  of  a  few  propositions,  which  are  originally  engraven 
upon  the  soul, — a  figurative  embellishment,  that  obscures, 
not  illustrates,  the  bright  simplicity  of  truth, — a  scaffolding, 
meant  only  to  assist  in  the  structure  of  a  moral  character, 
and  removed  when  that  is  completed, — a  parable,  scarcely 


SERM.  XXII.]  Cometh  hy  Hearing.  869 

adapted  for  cbildren,  but  certainly  below  the  wants  of  men, 
— a  superannuated  machinery,  useful  enough  in  its  day,  but 
two  unwieldy  for  modern  refinement ; — if  this  be  so,  how 
can  I  accept  such  an  office  as  this,  in  the  sense  in  which 
alone  it  should  be  accepted  by  a  minister  of  the  Gospel? 
How  can  I,  if  this  be  indeed  the  substance  of  that  teaching 
of  Christ,  which  I  have  been  appointed  to  assist  in  per- 
petuating, labor  to  impress  upon  an  auditory  the  propriety 
of  assisting  those  who  make  it  their  business  to  intrude 
these  needless  mysteries  upon  the  lonely  minds  of  their 
unhappy  pupils  and  victims  ?  May  not  they,  may  not  at 
least  the  enlightened  few  among  such  an  auditory,  reply, 
"  Why  persecute  these  poor  children  with  profitless  per- 
plexities? What  concern  have  they  with  the  marvels  of 
a  strange  Jewish  story  of  near  two  thousand  years  ago  ? 
These  are  the  luxuries  of  learned  ease ;  they  may  suit  the 
elaborate  education  of  the  wealthy ;  but  as  for  these  hap- 
less beings,  mutilated  in  half  their  faculties,  the  Gospel  of 
nature  is  enough  for  them.  It  at  least  will  not  corrupt  the 
purity  of  their  virtue,  by  insinuating  the  base  notion  of 
reward ;  it  will  not  make  them  the  idolaters  of  a  human 
God,  in  giving  to  their  ideal  picture  of  Deity  the  passions 
and  the  faculties  of  a  man.  At  most  they  can  know  but 
little ;  waste  not,  then,  their  limited  measure  of  capacity 
with  the  puzzling  details  of  your  marvellous  history,  as  if 
the  belief  of  a  history  could  of  itself  be  of  any  moral  value, 
could  make  men  wiser  or  better.  Tell  them,  if  you  will 
have  it  so,  of  the  dignity  of  their  own  nature,  but  cease  all 
visionary  rhapsodies  as  to  anything  above  it!" 

Brethren,  I  stoop  to  repeat  these  melancholy  levities, 
because  in  substance  they  are  the  thoughts  of  a  multitude 
among  us,  and  such  thoughts  should  be  met.  It  may 
belong  to  the  philosophizer  of  the  schools  to  marshal  them 
in  the  imposing  array  of  system,  but  the  principles  are  the 
same,  whether  issued  from  the  desk  of  the  sage  (never 
more  a  dreamer  than  when  he  terms  all  beyond  his  own 


370  The  Faith  that  [serm.  xxii. 

horizon  a  dream),  from  ttie  workshop  of  the  socialist  arti- 
san of  the  manufacturing  town,  or  from  the  lips  of  the 
refined  and  pensive  egotist  of  fashionable  life,  who  cannot 
endure  to  profess  a  creed  that  he  must  share  with  his 
tradesman.  What  else  but  the  prevalence  of  such  tenets, 
open  or  disguised,  has  unchristian ized  half  our  institutions, 
and  threatens  to  unchristianize  them  all  ?  What  else  but 
this  habitual  conviction  of  the  unimportance  of  a  revelation 
of  the  express  will  of  God,  of  the  "  faith  that  cometh  by 
hearing,"  has  given  almost  national  sanction  to  the  auda- 
cious impiety  of  distinguishing,  in  the  theory  of  religious 
education,  between  what  is  called  "  general"  and  "  par- 
ticular" religion  ;  of  daring  to  disunite,  at  human  conveni- 
ence the  majestic  integrity  of  the  truth  of  God,  and  to 
determine  what  shall  be  offered  by  what  will  be  received?- 
What  else  has  given  currency  to  that  dilute  and  inefficient 
morality,  whose  religious  tendencies  (when  it  acknowledges 
any)  are  directed,  like  those  which  Paul  found  at  Athens, 
to  an  "  unknown  God ;"  the  religion,  of  men  who  dare  to 
claim  the  notice  of  the  Father  unintroduced  by  the  Son, 
and,  justly  struck  blind  by  that  "  unapproachable  light," 
wander  in  the  dark,  and  record  the  gropings  of  their  blind- 
ness for  revelations  of  eternal  truth.  Nay,  to  come  closer 
to  ourselves,  what  but  this  makes  it  an  awkwardness  which 
(except  in  the  professional  teachers  of  the  Gospel,  and  not 
always  in  them)  is  in  the  statutes  of  society  almost  inex- 
cusable, to  disturb  the  even  flow  of  common  conversation 
with  a  reference  to  the  decisions  of  Him  into  whose  name 
we  have  been  baptized,  and  the  signature  of  whose  cross 
upon  our  foreheads  no  power  of  ours  can  erase?  What, 
I  repeat,  produces  or  countenances  all  this,  but  the  secret 
conviction,  that  the  religious  beliefs  for  which  we  are 
indebted  to  testimony  are  truths  of  inferior  moment,  if 
truths  at  all ;  that,  originating  in  the  world,  men  know 
not  how  or  when  they  are  now  sustained,  not  by  their  own 
vigor,  but  the  blind  force  of  custom  ? 


SERM.  X-XII.]  comet/i  by  Hearing.  371 

In  opposition  to  these  notions,  in  all  their  shades  and 
degrees,  I  recall  you  to  the  spirit  of  the  text.  St  Paul  is 
arguing  with  a  Jew,  and  states,  with  the  candor  of  a 
patriot,  the  objections  of  this  unhappy  countryman,  whom, 
while  truth  obliged  him  to  condemn,  his  heart  was  yearning 
to  rescue.  He  so  answers  as  to  admit  the  principle,  but 
deny  the  fact  assumed.  The  hesitating  or  obstinate  Israelite 
is  conceived  to  urge,  that  the  Gospel  of  Jesus  should  have 
been  abundantly  made  known  in  order  to  be  received,  and 
to  this  the  Apostle  assents,  but  replies  that,  in  point  of 
fact,  the  publication  Avas  already  universal.  St  Paul  admits 
(ver.  14,  15)  that  to  make  a  revelation  available  to  man  it 
must  be  communicated  to  man  ;  that  to  be  saved  men  must 
have  called  upon  the  God  of  Salvation ;  that  to  call,  they 
must  have  believed  ;  to  believe,  they  must  have  heard ;  to 
hear,  they  must  have  had  a  preacher;  to  preach,  mission- 
aries must  have  been  authoritativel}^  sent.  I  say  he  admits 
this  consecutive  order  of  Providence  because,  even  sup- 
posing the  passage  introduced  in  the  form  of  an  objection, 
the  answers  {"  but  they  have  not  all  obeyed  the  Gospel," 
&c.,  and  "but  I  say,  Have  they  7?o^  heard?")  manifestly 
concede  the  principle,  on  which  the  erroneous  objection 
rests,  and  warrant  us  in  receiving,  as  the  sentiment  of  the 
inspired  Apostle  himself,  the  weighty  proposition, — that 
"faith," — the  faith  which,  overcoming  the  world,  justifies, 
and  purifies,  and  saves, — "  cometh  by  hearing,"  cometh  in 
the  way  of  communication  from  man  to  man,  as  distin- 
guished from  any  natural  reflective  enlightenment;  while 
that  "hearing  cometh  by  the  word  of  God,"  ariseth  out  of 
an  express  revelation  uttered  from  heaven,  in  contrast  to 
every  S3^stem,  device,  or  imagination,  of  unassisted  human 
reason.  These  are  the  principles  you  must  be  prepared 
fully  and  cordially  to  espouse, — to  fortify  in  the  reason,  to 
cherish  in  the  heart,  if,  in  difficult  times,  beset  by  super- 
stition on  the  one  hand,  by  practical  infidelity  on  the  other, 


372  The  Faith  that  [SERM.  XXII. 

you  would  vindicate  against  every  assailant  the  precious 
privileges  of  adoring  faith. 

In  order,  then,  to  contribute  (as  a  man  may)  towards 
furnishing  you  with  this  panoply  of  God,  let  me  ask  you 
to  join  me,  for  a  few  minutes,  in  weighing  the  value  of 
these  ordinary  objections  against  the  Gospel,  as  a  super- 
fluous intruder  upon  a  self-suf&cing  world.  I  again  remind 
you  that  I  speak  not  now  of  the  unblushing  sensualist,  or 
the  public  God-despiser.  I  refer  to  better  men,  though  men 
mistaken  as  to  a  large  and  influential,  though  scattered 
party,  who,  professing  to  be  gxiided  by  reason,  can  find  no 
place  in  their  reason  for  evangelical  truth. 

N'ow,  you  will  generally  find,  that  these  opponents  of 
the  "  faith  by  hearing"  are  accustomed  to  speak  highly  of 
two  general  sources  of  enlightenment,  which  they  boast  to 
be  universal  as  man,  and,  therefore,  as  invested  with  nature's 
catholicity,  alone  calculated  to  be  the  religion  of  the  world. 
The  topics  are  themselves  susceptible  of  a  high  order  of 
eloquence,  and,  taking  advantage  of  this  capability,  they 
enlarge  in  seductive  strains  on  the  impartial  equity  of  that 
Supreme  Dispenser,  who,  by  a  revelation  co-extensive  with 
nature,  has  made  Himself  known  alike  to  every  mind 
capable  of  conceiving  Him ;  and  treat  with  unsparing  se- 
verity a  miserable  band  of  interested  bigots,  who  have  con- 
spired to  cloud  the  effulgence,  and  narrow  the  measure,  of 
His  mercies.  The  sources  to  which  they  love  to  refer  are 
often  so  hidden  in  a  blaze  of  eloquent  description,  and 
often  so  highly  adorned  with  assumptions,  borrowed  from 
the  very  religion  they  oppose,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  trace 
them :  ultimately,  however,  they  are  found  to  resolve  into 
the  prospect  of  creation  without  us,  and  the  light  of  con- 
science within.  A  word  on  both,  considered  as  teachers  of 
divine  truth;  not  to  exhaust  a  subject  which  is  boundless, 
but  to  fix  in  your  recollection  one  or  two  cardinal  ideas. 

I.  As  regards  the  former, — its  universality  and  'perpetuity^ 
as  a  disclosure  of  Deity  to  mankind,  are  bitterly  contrasted 


SERM.  XXII.]  cometh  hy  Htariiig.  '  873 

with  the  partiality  and  exclusiveness  of  the  Christian 
system.  If  God  were  to  interfere  at  all,  they  maintain,  it 
would  be  by  some  universal  agency,  simple,  general,  and 
obvious,  as  the  laws  of  His  visible  creation.  They  smile 
at  the  notion  of  God's  greatest  exhibition  of  His  will  to 
man  being  acted  upon  the  reduced  theatre  of  a  petty 
province,  and  made  dependent  on  the  chances  of  human 
testimony.  "  In  the  moral  as  in  the  physical  world,"  ex- 
claims the  leader  of  the  sentimental  school  of  Deism,  "it 
is  ever  on  a  great  scale,  and  by  simple  means,  that  Deity 
operates."  But  what  if  we  retort,  that  it  is  those  very  laws 
of  nature  "on  a  great  scale," — those  very  "simple  means," 
— that  have  caused  God  to  be  forgotten  ?  Not  justly,  we 
admit ;  for  they  ought  eminently  to  have  convinced  men  of 
His  presence  and  power  ;  but  what  of  that  ?  We  are  not 
now  speaking  of  argumentative  propriety,  but  of  actual 
fact ;  not  of  man  as  he  ought  to  be,  but  of  man  as  he  is. 
And  it  is  an  undeniable  fact,  that  it  is  the  permanence  and 
uniformity  of  the  natural  laws  of  the  creation  that  have 
beguiled  men  into  speculative,  and,  still  more,  into  practical 
atheism ;  that  it  is  the  very  perfection  of  the  laws  which 
has  hidden  the  legislator.  The  hand  that  God  has  con- 
structed so  wondrously  can  write,  "  There  is  no  God ;"  let 
it  be  smit  with  sudden  paralysis,  and  the  notion  of  an  in- 
tervening Avenger  will  arise : — nay,  let  us  at  any  time 
behold  some  strange  unique  in  any  of  the  departments  of 
experience,  and  it  startles  our  habitual  slumber.  That  is 
to  say, — as  long  as  the  work  is  'perfect^  we  recognize  no 
worker ;  but  the  moment  it  becomes  deficient  (the  very 
thing  which  ought  logically  to  produce  the  doubt),  we 
begin  to  conceive  and  admit  his  reality.  The  more  appa- 
rently capricious  the  works  of  nature,  the  more  they  re- 
semble man's;  and  the  more  they  remind  us  of  direct 
agency  analogous  to  the  human.  Now  if  this  be  so,  could 
i'  be  expected  that,  to  produce  an  acknowledgment  of  His 
being  and  attributes,  the  Deity  would  continue  to  employ 
32 


874  The  Faith  that  [seem.  XXII. 

the  same  medium  of  regular  and  ordinary  laws,  the  same 
vast  and  uniform  processes  in  the  physical  and  moral  world, 
which  in  all  ages  have  tended  (such  the  miserable  subjec- 
tion of  man  to  an  unreasoning  imagination)  to  render  His 
agency  suspected  by  some,  and  practically  forgotten  by  the 
many  ?  To  make  Himself  felt  He  must  disturb  his  laws ; 
in  other  words.  He  must  perform  or  permit  "miracles." 
But  then  He  must  likewise  exhibit  them  sparinghj^  as,  if 
they  continued  to  appear  on  assignable  principles  of  stated 
recurrence,  and  in  definite  cycles, — nay,  if  they  appeared 
frequently^  though  unfixedly, — they  would  enter,  or  seem  to 
enter,  into  the  procession  of  the  laws  of  nature,  and  thus 
lose  their  proper  use  and  character.  AYhat  follows?  It 
follows  that  miracles  cannot  be  presented  to  every  succes- 
sive age,  far  less  to  each  individual  person ;  they  must,  then, 
be  presented  only  to  some  particular  age  or  ages^  and  to 
some  particular  personal  witnesses.  But  we  have  seen 
that  they  ought  to  be  publicly  and  continually  known; 
therefore  (there  being  but  one  way  of  transmitting  past 
events  to  present  times),  revealed  religion  and  the  know- 
ledge of  God,  which  we  have  seen  is  only  thus  to  be  practi- 
cally and  influentially  attained,  must  be  made  dependent 
upon  human  testimony.  There  is  no  step  of  this  deduction 
which  might  not  be  made  by  a  man  who  had  never  heard 
of  any  actual  revelation  having  been  given  to  man ;  it  is 
purposely  built  upon  the  simplest  principles  of  our  common 
nature.  But  to  the  believer  in  the  Gospel  message,  how 
powerfully  do  the  hundred  voices  of  history  echo  the  truth 
of  these  views!  History  proclaims  (and  the  sound  of  her 
testimony  shatters  in  an  instant  the  airy  structures  of  mere 
speculation)  that,  in  point  of  fact,  God  never  has  been  in 
any  form  acknowledged  by  the  mass  of  mankind,  except 
under  the  supposition  of  a  direct  interposition,  whether 
true  or  false;  that  he  never  has  been  rightly  or  decorously 
worshipped  by  the  same  mass  of  men,  until  a  true  revela- 
tion, handed  down  by,  and  believed  on,  testimony,  did  that 


SERM.  XXII.]  ctnnetk  hy  Hearincj.  375 

for  the  world,  whicli  tlie  whole  array  of  the  "natural  laws," 
the  "simple  means,"  the  harmony  of  the  world,  and  the 
glorious  spectacle  of  the  starry  heavens,  never  effected  in  a 
single  nation  of  the  earth, — never  thoroughly  and  con- 
stantly effected,  perhaps,  in  a  single  mind,  since  the  fall  of 
Adam!  We  are  accused  of  evading  arguments  from 
reason ;  this  seems  to  me  to  amount  to  something  not  unlike 
demonstration^  that  a  traditional  revelation,  built  on  testi- 
mony transmitted  from  man  to  man, — that  is,  of  a  Bible 
and  sermon  religion,  far  from  being  improbable  (as  the 
impugners  of  an  "  historical  creed"  so  eloquently  insist),  is 
actually  the  form  of  religion  imperatively  demanded  by 
the  very  structure  of  human  nature. 

So  much  for  the  boasted  ef&cacy  of  the  prospect  of  nature, 
or  of  interferences  vast  and  simple  and  continuous  as  her 
laws,  to  win  the  minds  of  men  to  recognize  their  God. 
Thus  true  is  it,  that,  if  the  Psalmist  could  say  of  "the 
heavens  declaring  the  glory  of  God,"  that  "their  line  is 
gone  out  through  all  the  earth,  and  their  words  to  the  end 
of  the  world,"  our  Apostle  could,  with  a  more  profound 
and  touching  truth,  apply  (as  in  the  chapter  before  us,  ver. 
18)  the  expressions  to  the  public  delivery  of  a  revealed  Oospel; 
to  that  which  has  aroused  a  world,  slumbering  amid  the 
majestic  uniformity  of  the  natural  laws,  and  beguiled  into 
dreaming  (as  men  are  ever  prone  to  do)  that  what  is  habit- 
ual explains  itself  and  is  because  it  is, — has  aroused  such 
a  world,  I  say,  to  know  at  length  that  these  things  exist, 
not  because  they  could  not  have  been  otherwise,  but  because 
they  are  willed  to  be  thus,  that,  each  instant,  they  are 
dependent  upon  the  uncontrolled  fiat  of  One,  who  is  distinct 
from  them,  and  before  them,  and  above  them.  Men  ever 
cling  to  the  nearest  object;  in  the  law  they  lose  the  law- 
giver; or,  what  is  more  irrational,  make  a  lawgiver  o/the 
law,  and  deify  the  world.  It  is  as  when  the  prophet  beheld 
that  wondrous  vision  by  the  river  Chebar, — the  winged 
creatures,  and  the  coals  of  fire,  and  the  lightning, — the  vivid 


376  The  Faith  that  [seem.  xxii. 

energies  of  nature ;  "  wheels  within  wheels,"  that  marvel- 
lously seem  to  move  themselves,  for  "the  spirit  of  the  living 
creature  was  in  the  wheels ;"  wings  whose  noise  was  "  like 
the  noise  of  great  waters,"  yea,  even  "as  the  voice  of  the 
Almighty  f^  deity,  in  all  its  power,  seeming  embodied  and 
expressed  in  the  living  mechanism.  But  does  the  prophet 
pause  at  this  stage  ?  does  he  merge  the  Creator  in  the  crea- 
tion, or  confound  life  derived  with  life  essential  ?  Nay, — 
for  "  above  the  firmament  that  was  over  their  heads  was  the 
likeness  of  a  throne^  and  upon  the  likeness  of  a  throne  was 
the  likeness  as  the  appearance  of  A  man"  (foreshadowing 
the  incarnate  Son)  "  alone  upon  it.  . .  .  This  was  the  appear- 
ance of  the  likeness  of  the  glory  of  the  Lord.  And 
when  I  saw  it  I  fell  upon  my  face."  All  till  then  was 
wonderful,  but  nothing  till  then  to  be  adored ! 

II.  But  the  depreciators  of  revelation,  and  the  refiners 
who  would  evaporate  its  spirit,  and  those  among  our  men 
of  the  world,  who  for  variety  sometimes  assume  an  enthu- 
siasm for  virtue, — refer  us  (and  with  peculiar  frequency  of 
late  years)  to  another  source  of  guidance  and  security.  This 
is  the  proud  imperative  of  conscience ;  the  authority,  which 
each  rational  being  carries  within  his  breast,  the  all-sufS.- 
cient  rule  of  right,  universal  as  man,  and  authoritative  as 
God,  whose  image  and  superscription  it  bears.  Christian 
priests,  they  tell  us,  are  leagued  to  degrade  the  austere 
purity  of  this  perfect  law  by  a  host  of  suspicious  tenets, 
contrived  to  ease  alarmed  consciences,  and  to  increase  the 
general  dependence  on  themselves  by  magnifying  their 
ready  remedies.  This  indeed  touches  the  honor  of  the 
Gospel,  this  aims  to  wound  the  vitals  of  the  truth  we  preach. 
The  Gospel,  by  the  simple  dignity  of  her  presence,  can 
rebuke  the  scofi'er  and  the  voluptuary  ;  to  be  taunted  with 
treachery  by  the  stern  advocate  of  virtue,  himself  often 
unconsciously  indebted  to  her  for  the  principles  he  lives  on, 
is  a  trial  more  startling.    But  it  is  the  trial  of  the  Founder: 


SERM.  XXII.]  Cometh  hy  Hearing.  377 

"  Mine  own  familiar  friend  in  whom  I  trusted,  ichicli  did  eat 
of  my  bread,  hath  lifted  up  his  heel  against  me." 

You  will  not  expect,  that  I  can  now  enter  into  this  branch 
of  our  subject  at  any  length  proportionate  to  its  importance, 
that  I  can  now  undertake  to  expose  all  the  feebleness,  and 
unwind  all  the  sophistries,  of  these  declaimers.  As  before, 
— remembering  how  small  a  portion  of  pulpit  addresses  is 
•usually  carried  beyond  the  walls  of  a  church, — I  confine 
myself  to  a  single  and  simple  practical  view.  I  surrender 
everything  which  the  most  exacting  adversary  can  demand; 
I  demand  nothing  which  the  most  unblushing  sophist  can 
deny.  As  the  advocate  of  the  "  faith  that  cometh  by  hear- 
ing," I  concede  every  high  attribution  that  celebi^ates  the 
dignity  of  the  law  of  which  he  speaks,  and  that  enforces 
the  propriety  of  urging  its  performance.  In  doing  so  I 
afi&rm  no  more  than  "  the  volume  of  the  book,"  which  pro- 
claims that  "  blessed  are  the  undefiled  in  the  way,  that  walk 
in  the  law  of  the  Lord ;"  that  "  His  righteousness  is  an  ever- 
lasting righteousness,  and  His  law  the  truth :" — I  say  no 
more  for  that  law  than  my  Master,  who  died  a  voluntary 
martyr  to  its  justice.  So  far  as  that  law  is  engraven  upon  the 
soul,  you  will  do  well  to  deepen  and  refresh  the  characters; 
so  far  as  that  inward  revelation  shines,  you  are  bound  un- 
ceasingly to  trim  its  lamp,  to  purify  the  moral  atmosphere 
around  it,  to  maintain  and  heighten  the  blessed  illumination. 
You  will  do  well  to  follow  it,  it  is  your  duty  to  follow  it, — 
but  can  you  ? 

I  am  not  speaking  now  of  original  sin,  or  inherited  frailty; 
not  because  irrelative  to  the  point,  but  because  demanding 
a  sort  of  proof  distinct  from  the  sim.ple  appeal  to  experience^ 
on  which  I  would  rest  this  question,  of  the  value  of  Gospel 
preaching  in  relation  to  the  law  of  conscience.  I  take  man 
as  he  is,  man  as  you  see  and  know  him  to  be.  It  is  the 
ruinous  error  of  speculatists,  that  they  make  themselves 
the  measure  of  the  human  race,  and  generalize  motives  and 
feelings  which  cannot  go  beyond  the  door  of  the  study.     I 

82* 


378  The  Faith  that  [SERM.  XXII. 

speak  of  tlie  man  of  the  fields  and  the  market-place,  the 
man  of  affection,  and  passion,  and  prejudice, — the  being 
whom,  if  few  can  discern  in  themselves,  each  can  accurately 
perceive  his  neighbor  to  be. 

In  what  state,  then,  does  the  teacher  (whether  he  be 
moral  only,  or  evangelical  also)  find  this  being,  who  is  to 
be  the  subject  of  his  labors  ?  He  finds  him  the  creature  of 
a  mass  of  surrounding  and  constitutional  iDfluences,  that 
have  hardened  into  settled  habits ;  and  the  stern  reasoners 
I  oppose  would  be  the  first  to  allow,  that  these  influences 
are  mostly  for  evil.  The  point  is,  to  reclaim  him  to  the  laio 
he  has  abandoned,  or  never  clearly  known.  Our  austere 
instructor,  who  accuses  the  Gospel  of  deadening  the  sense 
of  guilt  approaches  his  degraded  and  dejected  fellow-mortal. 
He  impresses  the  essential  impropriety  of  moral  aberra- 
tions ;  he  depicts,  in  majestic  though  colorless  outlines,  the 
awful  dignity  of  that  inward  unconditiooal  law,  by  which 
the  free  will  of  man  binds  itself;  he  explains  with  great 
accuracy  that  important  principle,  by  whiich  repeated  evil 
becomes  inveterate,  and  its  results  are  perpetuated ;  he 
rises  higher  still,  and  names,  with  reverential  mysterious- 
ness,  that  Being,  who,  though  transcending  all  the  compass 
of  thought,  may  be  conceived  to  will  man's  obedience  to  a 
law,  thus  essentially  and  universally  implanted. 

His  remedy  is  administered,  but  with  what  success? 
Alas!  is  it  necessary  for  me  to  enlarge  upon  the  inefficacy 
of  such  restoratives  ?  The  victim  of  folly  listens  with  ap- 
probation, perhaps  with  momentary  enthusiasm ;  he  thinks 
of  the  dignity  of  human  nature,  and  makes  an  eflbrt  or  two 
to  meet  the  vast  idea ;  but  there  is  a  power  in  habitual  de- 
pravity, which  no  cold  injunction  of  reason  has  privilege 
to  disturb ; — you  know  it,  if  you  have  ever  surveyed  your 
own  lives  and  hearts.  The  spell  returns,  the  waters  subside 
into  their  accustomed  channel,  the  man  is  what  the  lessons 
of  a  life  have  made  him,  with,  perhaps,  the  added  bitterness 


SEKM.  XXIT.J  comeih  hy  Hearing.  379 

of  despair,  to  paralyze  yet  more  fatally  the  energies  of  his 
spirit. 

Do  I  say,  that  the  Gospel  must  succeed  with  snch  a  man? 
No,  I  do  not  ask  miracles.  But  I  do  say  that  it  adopts  the 
only  course  which  carries  a  chance  of  succeeding  to  arouse, 
restore,  and  fix  him.  Supernatural  causes  apart  (which  I 
purposely  omit,  because  their  reality  is  questioned  by  such 
adversaries),  man  can  be  swayed  only  by  the  principles  of 
his  own  constitution;  the  poison  and  the  antidote  both  grow 
there.  Whence,  then,  shall  we  draw  the  magic,  that  is  to 
charm  this  lethargy  away  ?  You  have  the  whole  arsenal 
of  human  nature  before  you  to  choose  from;  does  it  hold 
one  weapon  that  can  meet  this  antagonist?  Surely  you 
will  not  hesitate  in  the  choice.  All  experience  cries  aloud, 
— Fly  to  the  affections!  What?  and  are  they  infallible  for 
this  mighty  enterprise  of  restoration  ?  Ko,  for  there  is  no 
human  principle  whose  operation  is  absolutely  invariable ; 
but  we  do  not  warn  the  drowning  man  to  neglect  seizing 
the  plank,  which  alone  can  support  him  amid  the  howling 
waters,  because  he  may  still  perish  though  he  grasp  it! 
We  may  fail  to  enkindle  them,  they  may  fail  to  stimulate ; 
but  it  is  still  certain,  that  we  have  here  a  purchase  upon  the 
human  soul,  such  as  no  other  class  of  principles  ever  gave, 
or  can  give,  till  man  is  no  longer  man. 

Here,  then,  is  the  Gospel  system  in  a  word,  here  is  that 
in  which  it  overpasses  every  rival  remedy,  here  is  the  charm 
by  which  it  works  its  exclusive  wonders: — it  brings  the 
AFFECTIONS  to  reinforce  the  CONSCIENCE.  Is  this  to  debase 
the  dignity  of  virtue  ?  It  is,  as  truly  as  when  the  virtuous 
father  teaches  his  wayward  child  to  love  virtue,  by  winning 
him  to  love  his  teacher !  Is  this  to  debase  the  majesty  of 
the  law, — to  unveil  the  adorable  benevolence  of  Him  who 
is  its  living  impersonation  ?  Is  it  a  weakness  to  keep  the 
law  through  love  of  Him  who  gave  the  law  ?  Proud  and 
cruel  mockery,  which  freezes  to  despair,  on  pretence  of 
hardening  to  fortitude;  which  forbids  the  sick  to  be  healed 


380  The  Faith  that  [sERM.  xxii. 

on  any  terms  but  those  whicli  the  healthy  alone  could  use, 
and  rejects  a  remedy,  because  it  is  remedial ;  which  would 
delude  us  to  starve  in  the  midst  of  bount}^,  because,  forsooth, 
it  is  unmanly  to  be  dependent  on  food, — to  perish  of  hun- 
ger rather  than  condescend  to  eat  the  bread  of  heaven  ! 

But  you  will  not  require  to  be  told,  that  He,  who  best 
knew  our  nature,  might  best  be  trusted  to  repair  it.  "Well 
do  you  know,  that  when  the  most  imposing  efforts  of 
human  wisdom  shall  have  been  dismissed  as  illusory 
phantoms,  cold  and  pompous  insults  to  men's  misery, — 
every  corner  of  our  land  shall  still  supply  a  teaching,  rich 
in  a  wisdom  that  none  ever  received  in  heart  and  soul, 
and  felt  not  the  throbbings  of  a  new  life  within  him.  And 
Avhat  is  the  nature  of  this  marvellous,  this  transforming 
message  ?  A  story,  my  brethren,  a  simple  story ;  such  as 
a  child  will  feel  and  weep  over ;  such  as  a  sage  of  seventy 
winters  cannot  fathom.  It  tells  of  a  law,  holy  as  that 
eternal  heart  from  which  it  sprang ;  it  paints  the  portrait 
of  the  righteousness  consummate,  which  images  that  law 
in  the  life ;  it  celebrates  the  triumph  of  the  moral  conquest 
that  makes  the  enfranchised  conscience  sovereign  of  the 
man.  Yet  this  were  no  more  than  others  could,  in  their 
measure,  rival.  But  oh !  a  tale,  more  touching  than  all' 
this  solemn  strain,  is  its  exclusive  privilege  to  unfold.  It 
speaks, — it  alone  can  speak, — of  One,  whose  purity,  too 
perfect  to  brook  one  unatoned  sin  in  the  vast  universe  of 
His  creation,  was  accompanied  by  a  love  too  tender  to 
endure  that  one  pang  should  continue  to  exist,  for  which 
His  own  high  wisdom  would  permit  a  remedy  ;  of  a  love, 
which  drew  the  living  Author  of  the  law  from  His  trans- 
cendent abode  into  our  narrow  nature,  that  He  might 
quench  the  lightnings  of  His  own  avenging  justice  in 
streams  of  His  own  human  blood.  It  tells  of  that  inex- 
pressible attachment,  of  which  all  human  relationships  (for 
it  names  them  all)  are  too  weak  to  be  the  faintest  shadows ; 
of  a  Creator,  who  is  father  and  brother  and  husband  of  His 


SEEM.  XXII.]  cometh  by  Hearing.  381 

redeemed ; — and  by  all  the  insults  of  His  humiliated  life, 
by  His  depised  poverty,  and  His  accumulated  wrongs,  by 
a  sight  which  made  the  angels  tremble  and  weep,  though, 
— mystery  of  unfathomed  ingratitude! — men,  its  objects, 
can  slumber  as  they  listen,  or  wake  to  scoff, — by  the  groans 
of  Gethsemane  and  its  bloody  sweat,  by  the  nails  and  the 
thorns  of  Calvary,  by  the  last  dark  tortues  of  an  expiring 
God, — it  prays  us  to  love  Him  in  return !  This  may  fail 
to  move, — alas  !  too  well  do  we  know  that  it  can  fail ;  but 
it  is  certain  that  this  appeal  to  the  grateful  affections  is  the 
legitimate  path  to  the  great  object  of  renovation,  that  it  is 
a  justifiable  path,  that  it  is  a  practicable  path,  that,  if  it 
fail,  no  other,  that  men  have  ever  devised,  can  offer  a 
chance  of  success ! 

If  these  remarks  be  warranted,  even  these,  simple  and 
brief  as  they  are,  the  cause  is  finished.  It  cannot,  without 
obstinate  cavil,  be  controverted,  that  the  faith  of  hearing 
accomplishes  what  every  system  of  natural  enlightenment 
has  left  unremedied  ;  the  universe  without,  and  the  monitor 
within,  are  proclaimed,  by  the  experience  of  ages,  unequal 
to  this  tremendous  charge ;  a  testified  history  of  divine  love 
m.ust  alone  convert  mankind.  I  boldly  challenge  every 
man's  observation  to  confirm  this  reasoning.  Genuine 
faith  in  the  revealed  character  of  Jehovah  is  indeed  rare ; 
but,  in  proportion  as  it  spreads,  the  renewal  to  holiness 
spreads  too,  co-existent  and  co-extensive.  The  drunkard, 
the  voluptuary,  the  man  of  envy,  of  ambition,  of  avarice, 
resigns  the  hoarded,  hardened  depravity  of  a  life;  the 
desperate  are  taught  to  hope,  and  by  hope  stimulated  to 
exertions  by  themselves  undreamed  of;  and  I  hesitate  not 
to  affirm,  that,  amid  failures  innumerable  from  all  the 
opposing  influences  of  human  corruption,  wonders  are, 
through  the  compass  of  the  professing  Church  of  Christ, 
wrought,  on  any  single  Sunday,  by  preaching  the  life  and 
death  of  Jesus,  which  exceed  in  number,  in  degree,  and  in 
permanence,  all  the  moral  transformations  from  habitual 


382  The  Faith  that  [serm.  xxii. 

vice  to  genuine  virtue,  ever  by  any  otlier  means  affected 
since  the  fall  of  man. 

This  may  suffice  for  the  present.  If  it  leaves  much  un- 
said, it  leaves  you  the  more  to  think  of;  and  I  believe  that 
thoughts,  which  rise  as  the  natural  growth  of  our  own 
minds,  strike  their  roots  deeper  and  more  enduringly  than 
the  transplanted  exotics  of  other  intellects.  Many  of  you 
may,  indeed,  be  little  habituated  to  reflection  upon  the 
grounds  and  reasons  of  a  faith  whose  origin  in  your  own 
minds  is  lost  in  the  remoteness  of  infancy!  but  among  the 
thoughts  that,  even  to  the  least  reflective,  will  gather  in 
the  train  of  such  considerations  as  have  engaged  us  this 
day,  surely  this  is  one,  and  not  the  least  impressive  because 
the  simplest  of  all,  that,  if  such  be  the  value  of  a  commu- 
nicated revelation,  it  lies  upon  us,  with  all  the  weight  of  a 
tremendous  obligation,  that,  within  the  compass  of  our 
power,  no  human  soul  shall  remain  unvisited  by  its  light. 
And,  truth  to  say,  Christian  men  and  women  in  our  age 
are  not  slow  to  recognize  the  claim.  If  I  came  before  you 
this  day  to  plead  the  cause  of  some  distant  and  benighted 
tribe  of  the  human  family,  for  whom  the  missionaries  of 
the  Gospel  were  supplicating  their  Christian  brethren  to 
furnish  the  means  of  enlightenment ;  if  I  had  to  tell  of  the 
wants  of  the  taught,  and  the  humble  courage  of  the 
teachers, — of  men  who  had  forsaken  ;the  dearest  ties  of 
home  and  country  to  multiply  the  heirs  of  glory,  and  who 
rejoiced  to  be  thought  worthy  thus  to  suffer ;  could  I  speak 
of  wildernesses  in  some  far  clime,  impenetrable  to  all  but 
Christian  love,  untrodden  save  by  those  "  feet  beautiful  on 
the  mountains,  that  bring  tidings  of  salvation ;"  had  I  to 
recount  the  success  of  such  efforts,  the  sanguinary  Indian 
falling  at  the  feet  of  the  meek  preacher  of  the  truth  in 
Jesus,  and  beseeching  him  for  more  and  yet  more  of  those 
blessed  sayings  that  made  him  so  strangely  happy, — the 
softer  idolater  of  the  Pacific  strengthened  to  knowing  him- 
self, in  knowing  at  length  a  pure  and  holy  God  ;— had  I  to 


SERM.  XXII.]  Cometh  hy  Hearing.  383 

plead  for  such  a  cause  as  this,  I  believe  I  should  not  plead 
in  vain.  Ah,  brethren !  trust  me,  the  cause  for  which  I  do 
plead,  if  Avithout  this  brilliant  variety  of  interest,  possesses 
an  interest  as  deep  or  deeper,  of  its  own.  It  is  a  lonelier 
country,  a  solitude  more  unbroken,  that  these  missionaries 
have  to  penetrate,  who  would  burst  the  mental  torpor  of 
him  who  cannot  hear  or  speak.  Among  us,  and  in  all  out- 
ward indications  on  our  level,  breathing  the  air  we  breathe, 
and  seeing  the  light  we  see,  the  region,  nevertheless,  that 
these  poor  exiles  of  nature  inhabit,  is  separated  from  ours, 
by  barriers  wider  than  seas  or  mountains  can  interpose. 
The  senses  they  retain  are,  in  a  manner,  the  very  instru- 
ments of  anguish,  for  these  senses,  sight  especially,  apprise 
them  of  their  inferiority,  and  feed  the  anxious  longing  for 
that  unknown  something,  which  they  are  too  well  aware 
all  around  them  possess,  and  they  alone  are  condemned  to 
desire.  Nor  could  I  ever  witness  one  of  these  unfortunates, 
— the  quick,  restless  eye,, earnest  as  if  sight  alone  would 
force  its  way  to  knowledge,  and  then  the  dull  drooping 
relapse  into  vacant  hopelessness, — without  its  bringing  to 
my  mind  all  the  woes  of  literal  banishment,  and  picturing 
to  my  thoughts  some  exile,  born  an  alien  from  his  own 
ancestral  land,  who  loves  to  linger  on  the  borders  of  a 
region  he  never  must  enter,  who  gazes  fondly  upon  the 
dim  outline  of  woods  and  mountains,  his  native  inheritance, 
but  his  in  vain,  and  strains  his  agonized  fancy  to  conceive 
prospects  he  never  must  behold.  But  here  the  resemblance 
breaks.  The  banished  wanderer  has,  at  least,  one  prospect 
unchangeably  his  own.  He  can  gaze  upon  the  heaveiis,  the 
all-embracing  heavens,  and  recognize  the  same  sun  that 
quickens  the  soil  of  his  forefathers.  But,  to  our  spiritual 
exile,  no  spiritual  heaven  is  unveiled.  To  him  in  vain 
rises,  to  enlighten  the  world,  that  diviner  orb,  which  a  deaf- 
mute  once  designated  as  the  "  sun  of  eternity,"  even  the 
invisible  God,  "  the  brightness  of  the  everlasting  light ;" 
no  message  of  love  has  ever  taught  him  the  secrets  of  that 


384  The  Faith  that  [SERM.  xxii. 

celestial  home  where  the  righteous  shine  "  as  stars  for  ever 
and  ever."  The  world,  to  him,  is  a  volume  in  an  unknown 
language,  which  he  sees  but  cannot  construe,  a  cypher 
whose  key  is  lost.  He  looks  around  him,  and  beholds  the 
changes  of  events,  night  and  day,  seed-time  and  harvest, 
but  he  has  not  risen,  he  cannot  rise,  to  that  mighty  in- 
ference, which  enthrones  in  the  centre  of  the  universe  the 
one  Intelligence,  all-creating,  uncreate.  The  same  Provi- 
dence that  sends  man  into  the  world  naked,  wdiile  it  clothes 
the  inferior  animals,  because  it  gives  him  alone  reason  to 
supply  his  want ;  which  leaves  him  the  most  defenceless  of 
the  larger  animals,  slower  than  they,  less  organically  acute, 
less  muscularly  strong,  because  it  gives  him  reason  to  be 
his  all-suficient  engine  of  defence  ;  which  thus  makes  him 
bodily  the  prej^,  mentally  the  lord,  of  the  brute  creation, — 
has  also,  in  its  wisdom,  made  reason  itself  depend  on 
organic  conveyances  for  its  original  materials ;  and  the 
being  without  senses  is  a  being  without  knowledge,  either 
of  this  world  or  of  any  other.  The  deaf-mute  has  naturally" 
no  religion  ;  experience  has  proved  it,  if  it  wanted  proof; 
the  instinct  of  imitation  sometimes  bids  him  kneel,  but  his 
worship  is  idolatrous,  he  adores  the  stars.  Smile  not  in 
conscious  superiority  ;  half  the  world,  the  reasoning,  hear- 
ing, speaking  world,  to  this  day  does  no  more ! 

But  I  have  detained  you  long;  and  yet  I  still  linger 
round  the  subject,  unwilling  to  leave  anything  unspoken, 
for  those  who  cannot  speak  for  themselves.  No  charity  is 
like  this,  for  all  have  hope  but  its  objects.  The  blind  holds 
out  a  visible  signal  of  his  distress;  the  poor  mute  may 
wander  among  us  for  weeks,  and  his  misfortune  be  still 
unknown.  Hence  history  shows  us  that  his  sorrows  have 
ever  been  the  last  provided  for  by  public  charity.  This 
institution  (the  first  of  its  kind  in  Ireland)  is  but  twenty- 
three  years  old,  and  yet  the  deaf  and  dumb  of  Ireland 
average  4000,  and  have  done  so  long,  while  churches  were 
thronged  with  worshippers,  and  religion  swelling  her  tri- 


SERM.  XXII.]  Cometh  hy  Hearing.  885 

uraphs  in  the  land.  But  never  came  the  voice  of  peace  to 
them,  never  to  them  was  given  the  heaven-raised  affection, 
the  hope  that  vanquishes  the  grave ;  the  heavenly  dew  that 
fell  on  every  fleece  left  theirs  dry;  till  the  persevering 
benevolence  of  one  good  man  had  roused  the  public  atten- 
tion to  this  desert  wilderness  in  the  midst  of  our  spiritual 
vineyard.  But  what  avail  the  labors  and  sacrifices  of  unas- 
sisted charity  ?  The  institution  rests  with  you.  With  you 
it  now  depends  whether  sixty  helpless  beings,  now  pressing 
for  admission,  shall  be,/o?'  ever,  rejected  from  this  Institution, 
and  from  humanity ;  whether  they  shall  pass  through  life 
silent,  terrible  monuments  of  the  mysterious  will  of  God, 
— no  thought  of  heaven,  or  of  glory,  ever  brightening  that 
gloomy  vacancy  of  soul, — fatherless,  Eedeemerless,  spirit- 
less, hopeless;  whether,  when  that  sad  and  silent  life 
approaches  its  close,  they  shall  lie,  in  speechless  agony, 
unable  to  interpret  their  own  woes,  unknowing  of  the 
future ;  whether,  when  the  dark  crisis  has  passed,  and,  in 
awful  ignorance,  neglected  by  their  fellow-Christians  here, 
and  unqualified  for  any  position  in  God's  spiritual  world, 
they  stand  before  the  throne, — but  I  pause.  God  grant 
that,  in  that  hour,  a  voice  may  not  be  given  to  the  dumb 
to  accuse  the  deeds  of  this  day. 


33 


SERMON  XXIII. 

THE  christian's  ^YXLK  IN  LIGHT  AND  LOVE. 

(Preached  for  the  Molyneux  Asylum  for  Blind  Females.) 

If  we  walk  in  the  light,  as  He  is  in  the  light,  we  have  fellowship  one  with 
another. — 1  John  i.  7. 

The  great  Evangelist,  my  brethren,  whose  language  is  at 
all  times  the  most  wonderful  union  of  depth  and  simplicity 
the  world  has  ever  seen,  has  compressed  into  a  few  blessed 
words  the  whole  mystery  of  Christian  truth.  It  is,  indeed, 
one  inimitable  mark  of  profound  reality,  that  in  the  New 
Testament  almost  every  sentence  of  doctrinal  or  practical 
importance  may  be  perceived  to  bear  its  secret  relation  to 
an  universal  and  presiding  plan.  There  is  nothing  super- 
fluous, nothing  isolated ;  but  there  are  degrees  in  even  the 
excellencies  of  divine  knowledge.  In  the  firmament  of 
revelation,  "one  star  difFcreth  from  another  star  in  glory;" 
and,  assuredly,  this  declaration  of  peace  and  purity  stands 
conspicuous  among  those  glimpses  of  an  inner  and  diviner 
splendor, — of  an  heaven  within  heaven, — which  gleam 
through  the  veil  of  Scripture  upon  the  people  of  God.  The 
soul  of  man  is  but  an  exile  in  this  ruined  world ;  his  affec- 
tions yearn,  even  in  their  very  degradation,  for  something 
better ;  yea,  every  capricious  form  of  that  degradation,  its 
thousand  petty  ambitions,  are  but  crippled  struggles  for  a 
something  above  it;  the  pupil  of  the  Spirit  alone  is  taught 
where  and  how  to  seek  it ; — let  but  such  an  one  possess  even 


SERM.  XXIII.]    The  Christian's  Walk  in  Light  and  Love.   387 

this  fragment  of  truth,  and  it  almost  suffices  to  be  the  chart 
that  directs  his  course  to  glory  I 

But  what  an  office  it  is,  thus  to  stand  among  an  assembly 
of  eternal  souls;  and,  disregarding  the  veil  of  flesh  that 
hides  us  one  from  another,  to  speak, — spirit  to  spirit, — in 
the  presence  of  the  living  God,  and  of  all  those  between  us 
and  God,  who,  unseen  by  our  eyes,  may  be  privileged  to 
mingle  among  the  throng  of  men !  What  an  office, — if  we 
could  but  cast  aside  the  blinding  influences  of  habit, — to 
stand  forth,  an  immortal  among  immortals,  to  proclaim  a 
message  whose  reception  is  yet  to  fix  an  eternity !  How 
it  requires  us  to  recall  every  instance  we  have  ever  wit- 
nessed, of  the  manner  in  which  God  perpetually  suspends 
great  things  upon  things  apparently  of  small  moment,  to 
conceive  it  possible,  that  a  time  shall  yet  be  present,  when 
the  course  of  endless  ages  shall  not  exhaust  the  effects 
(immediate  or  remote)  of  this  single  meeting;  when  year 
after  year,  yea,  century  after  century,  shall  return  but  the 
melancholy  echo  of  an  abused  or  neglectful  past,  reverbe- 
rated from  all  the  unfathomed  abysses  of  eternity ;  or  shall 
prolong,  in  strains  of  triumph,  the  remembrance  of  some 
one  blissful  Sabbath  when  the  grace  of  God  was  welcomed 
and  harbored  in  the  adoring  soul  1 

I  am  to  speak  to  you  of  that  bond  of  love,  which  binds 
soul  to  soul  in  binding  all  to  God ;  of  that  walk  of  light 
which  assimilates  us  to  Him  who  is  light ;  and  of  the  union 
which  identifies  these,  in  connecting  them  both  with  the 
purifying  work  of  Christ.  But  you  know  that  I  am  here 
this  day  for  a  temporal,  no  less  then  for  an  eternal  purpose; 
that  I  am  here  to  speak,  not  only  on  behalf  of  God,  but  of 
God's  afflicted  servants;  and  to  summon  you,  as  you  your- 
selves value  the  holy  privileges  of  the  Christian  life,  to  aid 
that  work  which  perpetuates  them  among  your  fellow- 
creatures.  But  why  divide  these  topics  ?  Why  "  put  asun- 
der" those  which  "  God  hath  joined  together  ?"  To  preach 
the  truth  is  the  straightest  road  to  preaching  the  charity  of 


388  The  Christian's  Walk  [serm.  xxill. 

the  Gospel.  To  pnblisli  the  message  of  love  is  essentially 
to  infuse  love !  This  Gospel  story  of  ours  is  no  mere  regis- 
ter of  surprising  events,  which  men  are  to  hear,  and  perhaps 
to  credit,  and  coldly  return  to  forget;  it  is  no  chronology 
of  barren  incidents,  digested  out  of  fragments  of  half- 
perished  authors  by  the  diligence  of  modern  erudition  ; — it 
is  a  living  and  a  life-giving  story !  It  is  not  ancient  only, 
nor  modern  only,  but  both,  and  of  all  time !  It  fills  the 
amplitude  of  eternity;  for  its  Author  is  one,  who  is  "the 
same  yesterday,  and  to-day,  and  for  ever!"  It  links  us 
with  Him  who  was  before  all  worlds ;  and  who  will  5e,  and 
be  ours^  when  he  shall  have  rebuked  into  annihilation  the 
worlds  His  word  summoned  to  exist  I  To  preach  Christ  may, 
then,  be  to  preach  the  facts  of  a  history ;  but  they  are  the 
facts  of  this  hour,  no  less  than  of  eighteen  centuries  ago. 
What  He  has  done,  He  is  doing;  to  show  Him  to  you,  the 
living  impersonation  of  Almighty  love,  as  He  walked 
among  us  of  old,  is  to  show  Him  to  you  the  same  quicken- 
ing Spirit  of  love,  as  He  works  among  us  now!  And, 
therefore,  to  tell  you  Gospel  truth  is  to  do  more  than  tell 
you  truth ;  it  is, — if  the  Spirit  will, — to  transform  you  into 
the  likeness  of  Him  who  wrought  that  wondrous  work,  to 
shed  His  beams  upon  you  as  you  come  near  to  contemplate 
His  glory,  to  act  over  again  the  story  of  Christ  in  every 
heart  that  beats  and  burns  to  hear  it !  If  then  this  truth 
be  a  love-creating  truth,  which  to  believe  is  to  imitate,  I 
will,  in  God's  name,  deliver  this  truth,  and  let  it  work 
among  you  the  divine  charity  it  exhibits ! 

1.  The  blessed  Apostle  declares  himself  commissioned 
to  proclaim  a  "  message"  of  transcendent  importance ;  a 
message  which  he  declares  calculated  to  consummate  the 
joy  of  all  the  believing  people  of  God.  Of  his  own  quali- 
fications there  can  be  no  doubt.  He  is  no  deviser  of  con- 
jectural wisdom,  no  framer  of  untried  theory.  Thrice  over 
he  reiterates,  within  the  compass  of  as  many  verses,  that  he 
speaks  of"  that  which  he  has  seen,  and  heard,  and  his  hands 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  389 

have  handled."  The  aim  of  the  message  is  no  less  moment- 
ous. It  is  to  be  the  instrument  of  producing  a  blessing  so 
surpassing  all  human  anticipation,  that  even  long  familiarity 
cannot  yet  have  deadened  the  emphasis  of  the  phrase  in 
any  mind  capable  of  thought, — it  is  to  produce  "  a  fellow- 
ship with  the  Father  and  the  Son  I"  What  then  is  this 
message  thus  solemnly  introduced,  thus  earnestly  enforced? 
"  This  is  the  message  which  we  have  heard  of  Him  and 
declare  unto  you, — that  God  is  light,  and  in  Him  is  no 
darkness  at  all." 

2.  It  is  manifest,  then,  that  this  revelation  of  the  divine 
excellency  is  directly  connected  with  the  mystical  communion 
of  which  he  speaks;  the  one  is,  in  some  measure,  the  con- 
dition on  which  the  other  is  suspended.  But  the  connec- 
tion becomes  yet  more  distinct  when  we  come  to  the  pas- 
sage before  us.  We  there  learn  that  this  light,  with  which 
God  himself  is  identified,  becomes  also  the  element  in  which 
His  elect  children  breathe  and  move : — "  If  we  walk  in  the 
light,  as  He  is  in  the  light :" — and  we  learn  that  the  high 
communion  or  fellowship,  before  proposed  as  the  prize  and 
glory  of  the  spiritual  life,  directly  belongs  to  such  a  posi- 
tion. Nor  that  alone;  but  this  very  communion  is  now 
made  to  extend  through  the  entire  society  of  the  regenerate 
("we  have  fellowship  one  with  another''')^ — to  link  them,  each 
to  each,  as  all  are  linked  in  heaven, — to  entwine  every 
member  of  every  tribe  of  the  faith  in  the  same  golden  bands 
which  bind  them  all  to  the  Church  on  high,  and  the  Church 
on  high  to  them,  and  both  to  their  common  head,  "the 
man  Christ  Jesus ;"  until  the  last  link  of  the  whole  disap- 
pears from  the  view,  lost  in  the  central  light  that  surrounds 
the  "  unapproachable"  throne  of  God ! 

3.  Thus,  then,  the  Apostle,  in  these  words  of  holy  mys- 
tery, contemplates  the  Church  of  the  Sanctified  walking 
together  under  the  radiance  of  a  common  light,  which 
streams  from  the  presence  of  God,  and  which,  involving 
them  all,  assimilates  them  all.     He  sees  them  move,  in  holy 

33^ 


390  The  Christian's  Walk  [SERM.  XXIII. 

fear  and  jet  holier  hope,  beneath  the  meridian  blaze  of  the 
everlasting  glory,  receiving  its  rays,  and,  in  the  very  com- 
munity of  the  same  gift,  by  the  very  force  of  a  common 
investiture,  enjoying  blessed  ^^ fellowship  one  with  another." 
The  fair  procession  of  the  people  of  God  passes  calmly  on 
before  his  gifted  eyes ;  and  each,  in  the  luminous  robe  that 
vests  him,  wears  the  high  insignia  of  a  celestial  adoption. 
Co-heirs  of  heaven,  they  know  their  brotherhood ;  walking 
in  that  light,  which  issues  from  no  earthly  sun,  they  feel  it 
theirs  alone,  and  recognize  in  each  other  the  mystic  fellow- 
ship it  gives ! 

Ours,  then,  be  it  to  ask, — and  to  dare  to  answer, — what 
is  that  fellowship,  and  what  that  light,  which  (by  uniting 
this,  with  an  easy  inference  from  the  preceding  verse)  are 
declared  to  involve  each  the  other?  How  are  these  twin 
blessings  thus  wondrously  interwoven,  that  where  the  one 
is  present  the  other  cannot  be  away? — that  where  the 
"  light"  is  found,  there  is  the  communion  inevitably  estab- 
lished, and  where  the  "communion"  exists,  there  must  be 
presupposed  the  light  that  produces,  animates,  and  cheers 
it?  Supposing  the  facts  admitted,  where  is  the  connec- 
tion f 

First,  we  must  resolve  each  into  its  proper  origin,  to 
contemplate  each  in  its  proper  aspect. 

The  Apostle  addresses  Christians  in  their  Christian  cha- 
racter. He  speaks,  then,  of  a  "fellowship"  essentially 
Christian,  and  to  which  (we  may  fairly  conclude  him  to 
imply)  no  other  than  the  Christian  believer  is  competent. 
The  bonds  that  consolidate  this  union,  then,  are  framed  in 
heaven,  and  out  of  heavenly  materials.  Could  this  admit 
of  doubt,  it  would  be  rendered  unquestionable  by  the  form 
of  phrase  adopted  in  the  third  verse,  in  which  the  mutual 
fellowship  to  which  the  Apostle  invited  his  readers, — 
"fellowship  with  ^^," — is,  by  a  sudden  transition,  declared 
to  be  "fellowship  with  the  Father  and  the  Son:" — as  if  the 
ardent  interpreter  of  heaven,  content  with  a  glance  at  the 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  891 

subordinate  blessing,  were  impatient  to  spring  to  the 
celestial  principle  of  the  whole.  The  communion  here 
spoken  of  is,  then,  essentially  divine;  it  exists  in  and 
through  God  alone;  it  is  of  each  with  each,  because  of  all 
with  Him.  And,  therefore,  if  you  would  learn  its  pro- 
perties and  characteristics,  you  must  seek  them  in  their 
fountain,  where  the  human  soul  is  alone  with  the  Father, 
the  Son,  and  the  Spirit. 

Now  that  the  very  same  high  relation  obtains  in  the  other 
member  of  the  comparison,  the  words  themselves,  of  the 
passage,  proclaim.  They  refer  ns,  not  as  just  now,  medi- 
ately, but  directly  and  primarily,  to  God.  We  are  "  to 
walk  in  the  light  as  He  is  in  the  light."  We  are  to  design 
from  God  Himself.  No  dim  reflection  is  to  transcribe  our 
God  for  US,  that  we  may  present  the  copy  of  a  copy;  we 
are  to  look  straight  to  Him;  and,  faint  and  feeble  as  is  at 
best  our  lowly  image,  it  is  an  image  still!  The  remove 
from  the  original  may  be  infinite,  but  it  is  only  one  remove  1 
^^  As  He  is,  so  are  ice  in  this  world."  In  this  great  work  of 
the  Christian  life,  as  in  the  work  of  the  Christian  redemp- 
tion, no  third  term,  distinct  from  either,  is  interpolated 
between  God  and  man ;  no  Arian  sub-deity  to  distract  our 
adoration,  to  intercept  our  vows,  and  seduce  our  loyalty 
from  heaven.  Alone  in  the  unbroken  solitude  stand  God 
and  man,  the  Judge  and  the  criminal;  He  that  reconciles 
them  both  is  not  distinct  from  both,  for  He  is  both !  Our 
passage,  I  repeat,  points  full  to  God,  as  sole  object  of  devo- 
tion, sole  model  of  imitation;  but  remember  also,  it  can 
point  to  Him  only  as  we  can  know  Him.  A  consideration 
of  momentous  import  to  those  who  would  undeify  our 
human  manifestation  of  God.  For  when,  on  the  one  hand, 
we  are  perpetually  summoned  to  make  God  our  everlasting 
example,  to  be  "perfect  as  He  is  perfect,"  to  "forgive  as  He 
has  forgiven,"  to  "love  as  He  has  loved,"  or,  as  here,  "to 
walk  in  light  as  He  is  in  light," — all  phrases  which  suppose 
us  to  apprehend  and  know  Him,  for  who  can  imitate  what 


892  The  Christian's  Walk  [SERM.  XXIII. 

lie  can  not  apprehend? — when  we  are  tolcl,  even  more  di- 
rectly, that  man,  "  made  in  the  image  of  God^^^  is  capable  of 
being  restored  to  the  "image  of  Him  that  created  him," — 
that  "the  pure  in  heart  shall  see  God^'^ — that  "in  His  light 
we  are  to  see  light,'^ — that  ^^  His  face  we  are  to  seek;"  and 
yet  are,  on  the  other  hand,  warned,  that  He  is  essentially 
invisible,  that  He  "  dwells  in  a  light  no  man  may  approach, 
that  "  no  man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time,"  or  "  can  see  His 
face  and  live," — whither  shall  we  fly  for  refuge  in  this  per- 
plexity, or  how  conciliate  this  contrariety?  How,  but  in 
that  "God  manifested,"  who  has  brought  near  to  us  the 
God  unapproachable;  who  (in  another  sense  than  the 
Apostle's)  has  taught  us  to  "  endure  as  seeing  the  invisible  f 
who,  while  that  mysterious  embodying  of  the  Eternal  that 
was  wont  to  commune  wdth  Moses,  declares  that  none  shall 
see  His  face  and  live,  not  only  makes  life  compatible  with, 
but  the  true  life  dependent  on,  seeing  JETm  ("Look  unto 
me,  all  ye  ends  of  the  earth,  and  be  saved!"); — and  who, 
in  this  character  only,  could  be  set  forth  as  Himself  the 
very  model  which  God  exclusively  is  made  everywhere 
else.  I  pass  not  the  passage  before  us.  Are  we  to  "  walk 
in  the  light  as  He  is  in  the  light," — copyists  of  God  who 
dwells  there?  Count  a  few  verses  further,  and  the  same 
immutable  sentiment  meets  you  again;  but  another  per- 
sonage ("who  is  not  another")  has  glided  unseen  into  the 
picture,  and  become  the  object  in  the  foreground.  "  He 
that  saith  he  abideth  in  Him  {Christ, — who  is  also  'the 
true  light')  ought  himself  also  so  to  ivalk  even  as  He 
walked''  (ii.  6). 

We  have  seen,  then,  that  both  the  terms  of  this  decla- 
ration,— the  walk  of  light  and  the  fellowship  of  the  saints, 
— lead  us  forth  (and  with  nearly  equal  directness)  out  of 
the  world  and  into  God.  In  Him  they  terminate,  blend, 
and  coincide!  The  walk  in  light  is  the  earthly  image  of 
the  supernal  light;  the  "fellowship  one  with  another" 
resolves   into   "the   fellowship  with  the   Father   and   the 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  893 

SoQ."  So  far  we  have  traced  them  to. their  common  home 
in  the  bosom  of  the  Eternal,  but  even  there  we  may,  with 
reverent  eyes,  dare  to  behold  their  mutual  relations ;  still 
contemplating  the  heavenly  harmony,  that  the  Apostle 
proclaims  to  link  together  this  light  divine  and  that  divine 
communion.  So  shall  we  yet  more  nearly  apprehend  that 
these  are  two  forms  of  one  eternal  truth :  on  the  one  hand, 
that  "  God  is  light,"  and,  on  the  other,  that  we  who  glory 
in  that  light  are  ''^ partahers^^  (Peter  and  John  in  their 
originals  use  the  same  word,  xoivi^vol)  "  in  the  fellowship  of 
the  divine  nature." 

The  Christian  verity  has  taught  us  how  to  contemplate 
God.  It  has  unfolded  to  us  the  truth  above  all  reach,  of 
reason, — that  in  the  Unity  of  the  divine  substance  is  a 
Trinity  of  the  divine  manifestations ;  and  it  has  instructed 
us,  when  we  would  reflect  upon  that  wondrous  essence 
which  caused  and  sustains  the  universe, — the  Life  of  all 
Life  and  Soul  of  all  Souls, — to  regard  it  as  mysteriously 
threefold, — as  parting  into  three  streams  from  one  eternal 
source,  which  (stooping  to  our  capacities,  relationships,  and 
language)  it  has  styled  the  Father,  Son,  and  Spirit.  Of 
Avhat  these  mighty  personages  are,  in  their  own  nature^  it 
declares  nothing,  for  no  revelation  can  communicate  what 
no  created  faculty  can  apprehend.  But  it  tells  us,  and 
largely,  that  which  alone  it  imports  that  we  should  know ; 
it  tells  of  their  relation  to  us^  of  the  distinctness  of  their 
offices,  and  of  our  corresponding  duties.  It  declares  what 
blessings  descend  from  them,  what  answering  tribute  should 
rise  from  us.  To  exhibit  this  great  interchange  it  employs 
every  variety  of  language  and  of  imagery ;  and,  as  it  were, 
summons  the  whole  creation  to  sjmibolize  the  commerce 
of  God  and  man.  Sometimes  we  are  allied  as  the  master 
and  his  servants,  sometimes  as  the  monarch  and  his  sub- 
jects, sometimes, — still  more  endearingly, — as  the  father  is 
bound  to  his  children,  sometimes,  adopting  yet  tenderer 
terms,  it  is  the  affiance  of  a  divine  husband  with  an  es- 


394  The  Christian's  Walk  [SERM.  XXIII. 

pousecl  Church.  Thus,  and  in  numberless  similar  images, 
the  connection  is  viewed  under  a  variety  of  special  aspects 
and  analogies,  bringing  with  them  their  special  instruction 
as  to  the  tempers  and  duties  they  respectively  demand; 
such  as,  doubtless,  you  have  often  heard  largely  expounded 
and  illustrated  from  this  place.  These  are  all  particular 
and  detached  representations.  But  if  that  luider  principle 
of  connection  be  afiirmed,  into  which  they  all  resolve, 
images  yet  viore  general  and  comprehensive  must  be  sought 
to  express  the  fact  and  the  ground  of  our  intercourse  at 
once  with  the  whole  undivided  Deity,  and  with  each 
Person  in  its  essence.  And  of  all  which  inspiration  has 
deigned  to  employ  for  this  high  function,  scarcely  any  is 
more  usual, — none,  certainly,  as  we  shall  presently  see, 
more  expressive, — than  emerges  in  the  passage  which  con- 
nects us  with  Heaven  by  declaring  that  we  walk  in  the 
LIGHT  as  God  is  in  THE  light. 

Now  "  our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father  and  the  /Sbw,"  to 
which  St  Paul  expressly,  and  all  the  divine  writers  im- 
plicitly, add  "the  fellowship  of  the  Holy  GhostP  If,  then, 
our  fellowship  with  Deity  be  thus  distinguished  into  sepa- 
rate communions,  each  having  its  own  grounds  and  offices 
of  intercourse  ;  and  if  (as  the  Apostle  tells  you)  this  three- 
fold commimion  be  inseparably  interwoven  with  the  "walk 
of  light"  which  imitates  a  God  who  "is  light,"  we  may 
naturally  expect  that  that  celestial  lustre  which  represents 
the  whole  Godhead,  shall  itself  be  separable  into  signifi- 
cancies,  in  some  measure  corresponding  to  the  divine  per- 
sonages whom  the  Godhead  embraces.  Thus  shall  our 
threefold  communion  be  met  and  answered  by  a  threefold 
"light."  Observe,  then,  the  very  record  of  inspiration, 
which  declares  that  God  Himself  is  light,  has  imaged  forth 
by  the  same  term  all  the  choicest  attributes  of  God  in  His 
relations  to  us  ;  and  most  eminently  those  very  attributes, 
on  which  we  are  accustomed  to  reflect  when  we  would 
bring    before  our  minds    the  distinctive    excellencies    and 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  395 

blessings  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Spirit.  No  acci- 
dental coincidence  is  this  !  It  lies  in  the  deep  dispositions 
of  that  wisdom  which  framed  the  Scriptures  as  it  framed  a 
world  I 

I  will  say,  then,  that  all  the  significations  of  that  divine 
light,  which  in  Scripture  is  emblematic  of  the  attributes  of 
God,  seem  ultimately  resolvable  into  three  cardinal  excel- 
lencies, holiness,  happiness,  and  knowledge.  When  Ilis 
'■''judgments'''  are  declared  to  be  "  as  the  light"  (IIos.  vi.  5), 
and  His  children  to  be  "  children  of  light,"  and  the  livery 
of  His  servants  the  "  armor  of  light,"  you  recognize  a  type 
of  His  essential  holiness.  When  He  is  termed  "the  light 
and  salvation^^  of  His  people,  the  bestower  of  "  light  to  the 
righteous"  and  ^'■gladness  to  the  upright," — you  see  Him 
the  source  of  their  happiness,  whether  in  consolation  on 
earth  or  glory  in  heaven ; — ^when,  lastly,  it  is  said  that  "the 
entrance  of  His  words  giveth  light,"  even  "  the  light  of  the 
'knowledge  of  the  glory  of  God,"  and  that  by  that  light  "  all 
is  made  manifest J^  you  then  behold  this  type  of  the  blended 
perfections  of  God  employed  eminently  to  symbolize  His 
knowledge  and  his  truth. 

You  will  have  now  anticipated  me  when  I  seem  to  dis- 
cover, in  these  three  fundamental  attributes  and  gifts  of 
God,  the  appropriate  characteristics  of  the  three  Persons  of 
the  ever-blessed  Trinity ;  when  I  see  them  all,  indeed  in 
All, — for  how  should  Theij  be  without  a  mutual  communi- 
cation of  the  blessedness  of  each  ?  But  when  I  still  imagine 
I  can  behold,  in  the  Father  (the  Author  of  all  law)  the  God 
of  all  righteousness  ;  in  the  Son  (whose  "joy  was  set  before 
him")  the  God  of  all  happiness;  in  the  Spirit  (that 
"  searcheth  the  deep  things")  the  God  of  all  truth;  or  when, 
regarding  the  same  attributes  as  they  act  upon  us,  I  worship 
in  the  Father  (eminently)  the  "just,  yet  justifying"  im- 
puter  of  our  righteousness;  in  the  Son,  the  victorious 
obtainer  of  our  happiness ;  in  the  Spirit,  the  liberal  be- 
stower of  our  wisdom ; — surely  it  is  no  baseless  vision  thus 


396  The  Ghrisiian's  Walk  [seem,  xxill. 

(following  the  revelation  wlaich  tells  us  that  they  have  the 
fellowship  of  the  Trinity  who  walk  in  the  light  of  the 
Trinity)  to  fix  our  trembling  eyes  upon  that  central  light 
of  Godhead,  to  trace  it,  as  it  parts  into  its  three  golden 
beams  of  holiness,  of  happiness,  and  of  wisdom,  all  bearing 
its  name,  because  co-eternal  emanations  of  God  Himself, 
who  bears  it ;  and  thus  to  catch  some  glimpse  of  the 
mighty  truth  contained  in  the  text, — that  to  live  within  the 
verge  of  this  illumination  is  to  hold  communion  with  the 
essential  excellencies  of  the  triune  God. 

Once  more, — and  briefly, — if  the  fellowship  of  the  Three 
in  One  thus  answer  to  the  threefold  light  in  which  They 
dwell,  how,  specially,  does  it  correspond  to  each?  For 
nothing  short  of  this  will  consummate  the  Apostle's  implied 
parallel.  But  to  those  who  are  at  all  familiar  with  the 
revelation  of  the  Bible,  or  with  the  inner  revelation  of 
Christian  experience,  this  is  but  the  problem  of  a  moment. 
Surely,  if  the  Father  be  eminently  the  light  of  holiness, 
and  our  acceptor  as  a  holy  people  in  Jesus,  he  who  walks 
in  that  light  communes  with  him  by  the  link  of  holiness, 
by  the  cordial  adoption  of  that  "righteousness  of  God, 
which  is  witnessed  by  the  Law  and  prophets,"  by  profound 
suhnisslon  to  that  will  which  is  the  executive,  that  reason 
which  is  in  itself  the  legislative  council  of  the  universe. 
Surely,  if  the  Son  be  eminently  the  light  of  celestial  peace 
and  its  dispenser,  we  commune  with  him  as  dwellers  in  that 
light,  by  trust  boundless  and  unfeigned  in  that  victor,  who, 
having  once  and  for  ever  foiled  His  adversary  in  the  deadly 
struggle  of  Gethsemane  and  Calvary,  will  never  forsake  the 
Church  He  redeemed ;  by  gratitude  for  blessings  undeserved, 
^y  Py  for  blessings  assured  and  everlasting ;  by  that  sterner 
task  of  which  another  Apostle  speaks,  the  fellowship  of 
His  sufferings  being  made  conformable  to  His  death  (Phil, 
iii.  10).  If,  lastly,  in  the  Spirit,  we  worship  the  light  of 
eternal  truth,  and  its  revealer, — when  are  we  found  in  that 
light,  and  when  blending  in  mystic  communion  with  Him 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  397 

who  abides  tliere, — but  when  with  a  sanctified  reason  we 
apply  our  whole  mind  to  receive  and  understand  His  reveal- 
ings ;  when,  raising  at  his  call  the  faculties  which  He  alone 
can  furnish  with  fitting  objects,  we  issue  gladly  forth  from 
the  world  of  shadows,  and  meet  Him,  where  he  awaits  us, 
in  the  world  of  immutable  reality?  Alas!  how  can  he 
whose  feeble  voice  w^ould  now  summon  you  thither,  speak 
of  this  high  work  of  a  sanctified  understanding,  without  an 
earnest  prayer,  that  at  this  hour  there  may  be  those  before 
him,  who  find  in  these  searchings  after  the  deep  things  of 
God,  the  glorious  privilege  of  their  enlightened  reason  ; 
who  consecrate  the  intellect  no  less  than  the  heart  in  this 
holy  service;  who  know  that,  though  the  affections  are 
indeed  the  great  scene  of  the  spiritual  life,  yet  the  affections 
themselves  rest  upon  motive,  and  motive  implies  know- 
ledge ;  and  who,  therefore,  worshipping  God  not  only  "  with 
all  their  heart,"  but  "with  all  their  mmcZ,"  enjoy  "  the  fellow- 
ship of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  as  in  the  participation  of  those 
other  blessings  of  which  we  have  spoken  so  eminently,  by 
humbly  walking, — as  He  dwells, — in  the  light  of  His  own 
consummate  truth! 

Have  we  not  now  seen  that  this  earthly  career  of  light 
involves  the  whole  Christian  life,  as  directed  to  each  mem- 
ber of  the  ever-blessed  Trinity?  Have  we  not  seen  its 
reward  in  that  communion  which  itself  fulfils, — as  far  as 
our  lowly  humanity  can  be  fondly  said  to  fulfil, — the  evan- 
gelical law  of  God  ?  But  the  mystery  is  not  yet  complete. 
Another  vista  of  the  divine  symmetry  of  the  Gospel  opens 
here !  The  fulfilling  of  the  law  is  (as  you  know)  declared 
to  be  found  in  "  lovef^ — the  whole  communion  with  Father, 
Son,  and  Holy  Spirit, — as  well  as  (still  more  manifestly)  the 
mutual  communion  of  the  brethren  of  Christ, — is  compre- 
hended, then,  in  that  single  word ;  a  brief  word  to  utter,  but 
whose  purport,  we  are  promised,  eternity  shall  not  exhaust  I 
You  may  have  marvelled  that,  when  numbering  the  graces 
that  enrich  the  fellowship  of  a  soul  with  heaven,  I  spoke 
34 


398  The  Christian's  Walk  [seem,  xxiil. 

not  of  this  master-grace ; — that  in  counting  over  each  pearl 
of  price, — joy,  and  gratitude,  and  faith,  and  holy  resigna- 
tion— I  named  not  this: — it  was  not  neglected  but  deferred! 
It  now  appears  that  the  walk  of  light  must  hlend  with  the 
walk  of  love ;  they  must  unite  in  their  origin^  they  must 
commingle  in  their  ^ro^ress.  Need  I  remind  you  how  aptly 
this  is  attested  ?  For  their  origin^ — know  you  not,  that  the 
same  blessed  Epistle  which  declares  that  "God  is  light," 
declares  also  that  "God  is  love f^  and  thus  identifies  the 
fountains  of  the  Christian  life  ?  For  their  progress^  and  to 
establish  the  coincidence  of  the  two  in  all  their  successive 
manifestations  in  the  Christian  heart,  listen  to  the  further 
declarations  of  the  same  portion  of  inspiration,  and  mark 
how  evidently  they  are  framed  so  as  to  force  on  us  the  con- 
viction of  this  lovely  harmony.  On  the  one  hand,  "If  we 
say  that  we  have  fellowship  with  Him,  and  walk  in  darkness, 
we  lie  ;"  on  the  other,  "  He  that  saith  he  is  in  the  light,  and 
haieth  his  brother,  is  in  darkness"  (1  John  ii.  9).  On  the  one 
hand,  "  If  we  walk  in  the  light  we  have  fellowship  ;"  on  the 
other,  "  He  that  loveih  his  brother  abideth  in  the  light"  (ii. 
10).  On  the  one  hand,  "  This  is  the  message  we  deliver 
unto  you,  that  God  is  light;"  on  the  other,  "  this  is  the  mes- 
sage that  ye  heard  from  the  beginning,  that  we  should  lov6 
one  another^^  (iii.  11).  Thus,  beginning  from  their  sameness 
in  the  very  heart  of  God ; — carried  out  in  their  sameness 
(and  separated  only  in  our  thoughts)  through  all  the  story 
of  the  Christian  life ;  prolonged  in  their  sameness  into 
eternity, — for  as  "  love  never  faileth,"  so  that  light  is  said 
to  be  an  "  everlasting  light," — they  blend,  they  mingle,  they 
are  lost  in  each  other !  and  it  is  only  the  feeble  vision  of 
our  imperfect  reason  that  fails  to  grasp  the  identity  of  the 
two,  and  to  see  that  light  and  love  are  one  below, — light 
and  love  one  in  heaven, — light  and  love,  the  issuings  of  the 
same  nature  above  all  natures,  which,  mingling  holiness, 
happiness,  and  truth  in  the  unity  of  one  light,  manifests 
them  all  in  the  unity  of  one  love ! 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  899 

And  wlien  tlic  Apostle  speaks  of  that  light  in  which 
God  everlastingly  dwells,  does  he  omit  (in  direct  connec- 
tion) to  speak  of  that  love  which  God  has  everlastingly 
manifested  ?  Nay,  for  he  adds  that  "  the  blood  of  Jesus 
Christ  His  Son  cleanscth  us  from  all  sin."  The  utterance 
of  God's  light  (for  such  was  Christ, — "the  brightness  of 
the  Father's  glory,"  "the  true  light,"  the  "light  of  the 
world")  was  one  with  the  utterance  of  His  love  (for  "herein 
is  love,  that  God  loved  us,  and  sent  His  Son^^)\  as  they 
shall  be  one  for  eternity.  Nor  does  the  communion",  which 
results  (as  we  have  so  largely  seen)  from  the  participation 
of  this  light,  rest  less  surely  upon  the  same  basis.  Well 
do  you  know  (for  often  have  you  been  taught)  that  it  is 
only  as  washed  in  that  blood,  alike  for  acceptance  and  for 
purification,  that  Christians,  as  such,  can  be  one  with  God, 
or  one  with  each  other; — that  it  is  the  crimson  uniform  of 
the  cross  that  unites  the  soldiers  of  the  living  God  under 
one  bond  of  fellowship  ;  and  that,  were  they  robbed  of  that 
badge  of  their  affiliation,  they  would  be  instantly  broken 
and  disbanded.  But  thus  saved,  thus  united,  thus  cleansed 
from  all  sin,  thus  entitled  to  all  glory, — they  are  one  now, 
and  one  for  ever:  he  is  greater  than  Omnipotence  who  can 
rend  that  tie;  that  "marriage  was  made  in  heaven  I" 
Alone, — it  was  in  the  depths  of  eternity, — stood  Christ  and 
His  Church  before  the  altar  of  that  divine  espousal ;  none 
was  witness  but  the  Father  of  glory  and  the  Spirit  of  life, 
when  the  vow  was  plighted  and  the  contract  sealed ;  but 
all  heaven  shall  yet  be  witness,  when  the  redeemed  Church 
shall  vindicate  the  fidelity  of  the  Church's  Redeemer;  when 
she  shall  "come  up  from  the  wilderness"  of  this  barren 
world,  "  leaning  on  her  beloved,"  and  by  him  be  imhlicly 
invested  with  those  privileges  of  her  rank  which  are  hers 
now,  but  hers  in  silence,  secrecy,  and  sorrow!  Then  shall 
the  "fellowship  of  one  with  another,"  and  of  all  with  God, 
be  indeed  complete;  and  that  wondrous  prayer  be  fulfilled, 
in  which  (as  one  who  ties  and  doubles  a  knot)  the  Saviour, 


400  The  Christian's  Walk  [SERM.  XXlir. 

by  returninpf  on  His  words,  seems  purposely  to  have  sought 
to  express  tlie  infolded  closeness  of  that  maze  of  love  in 
•whicli  the  "children  of  light," — having  within  them  the 
abiding  of  the  Spirit^ — are  one  with  the  Father  and  the 
Son: — "That  they  all  may  be  one,  as  thou,  Father,  art  in 
me,  and  I  in  thee,  that  they  also  may  be  one  in  us. — That 
they  may  be  one  even  as  we  are  one,  I  in  them  and  thou  in 
me,  that  they  may  be  made  perfect  in  one !" 

Were  I,  my  brethren,  your  stated  minister,  and  the 
minister  of  those  on  whose  behalf  I  have  this  day  to  speak, 
I  could  not  often  address  you  as  I  have  now  done ; — for 
oh!  is  it  not  melancholy  to  think,  is  it  not  peculiarly  afflict- 
ing to  think,  that,  to  those  who  are  thiLs  visited,  a  large 
portion  of  the  word  of  God  itself  becomes  necessarily  unin- 
telligihlef  We  have  seen  that  there  are  no  phrases  on 
which  the  sacred  writers  delight  so  constantly  to  dwell, 
when  they  would  express  the  excellencies  of  God,  as  those 
derived  from  the  external  light.  It  is  (as  it  were)  conse- 
crated into  being  the  material  representative  and  index  of 
God  in  His  inanimate  creation;  and  the  Christian,  who 
loves  to  hallow  everything  that  is  seen,  and  heard,  and 
felt,  by  associations  of  spiritual  truth,  is  permitted  to  find, 
in  that  which  reveals  all  else,  a  faint  revelation  of  that 
inefiable  Supreme,  whom  "no  man  hath  seen  or  can  see." 
"Jehovah," — cries  the  great  prophet,  rapt  in  vision  of  the 
future  Church, — "  shall  be  to  thee  an  everlasting  light,  and 
thy  God  thy  glory !"  But  when  to  these  poor  sufterers  the 
preacher  of  salvation  approaches  with  promises  like  these, 
he  but  deepens  the  mystery  he  would  explain  !  When  he 
tells  them,  as  the  Apostle  has  done  (Eph.  v.  13),  that  "  all 
things  are  made  manifest  hy  the  lightj^  no  experience  of 
theirs  can  echo  his  words,  "the  darkness  comprehendeth  it 
not;"  when  he  tells  them,  "they  were  darkness  before,  but 
are  now  light  in  the  Lord,"  their  hearts  may  witness  (God 
grant  they  may  witness!)  his  truth;  but  his  words  can 
convey  but  a  dim  and  shadowy  import.     Nay,  the  very 


SERM.  xxiif.]  in  Light  and  Love.  401 

notion  of  those  prophetic  visions,  Avliicli  make  so  bright  an 
element  in  the  magnificent  treasury  of  revelation,  is  to 
them  absolutely  unattainable.  Our  hearts  may  burn  within 
us,  as  we  follow  Isaiah  and  John  through  that  heaven 
which  is  to  be  our  inheritance ;  but  not  only  is  that  "  in- 
heritance of  the  saints  in  lighf  to  them  inconceivable,  but 
even  the  very  terms  that  express  the  prophet's  exercise  of 
his  gift  are  terms  to  which  they  can  attach  no  direct  signifi- 
cance. "I  saw,"  declares  one  of  these  Inspired,  "the  Lord 
sitting  upon  a  throne,  high  and  lifted  up,  and  his  train 
filled  the  temple."  Alas !  in  the  first  two  words  the  reader 
has  gone  beyond  his  sightless  hearer.  Sadly,  indeed,  may 
they  echo  the  old  diviner's  phrase,  ''1  shall  see  him,— but  not 
now  r 

Bat  the  great  poet  of  Christianity,— himself  thus  afflicted, 
— had  faith  to  pray  from  out  of  the  depth  of  his  depriva- 
tion : 

"So  much  tlie  ratlier,  thou,  celestial  light, 
Shine  inward  !  and  the  mind  through  all  her  powers 
Irradiate,  there  plant  eyes  !" 

And  it  is  with  unspeakable  pleasure  that  I  can  commu- 
nicate to  you,  on  the  authority  of  the  chaplains  of  this 
Institution,  that  the  Spirit  of  the  God,  who  is  no  respecter 
of  persons,  has  known  how  to  carry  on  His  inward  work 
without  this  outward  aid ;  and  that  it  is  a  positive  fact,  that 
among  all  those  young  disciples,  whom  it  is  the  chaplain's 
office  to  catechise  on  stated  days, — many  of  them  the 
children  of  the  wealthy,  in  whom  every  sense  is  taught  its 
duty  in  the  work  of  acquiring  knowledge, — none  are  com- 
parable, for  knowledge  of  the  word  of  life,  and  apparent 
feeling  of  its  inestimable  value,  to  the  youthful  blind  of  this 
institution.  Insomuch,  that  the  examiner  declares  himself 
habituated,  when  an  answer  is  missed  by  all  the  rest  of  his 
class,  to  refer  with  confidence  to  his  blind  catechumens, 
and  to  hear,  uttered  forth  from  the  depth  of  their  lonely 

34* 


402  The  Chrislian's  Walk  [SERM.  XXIII. 

world,  responses  that  evince  that  God,  now  as  ever,  "  can 
lead  the  blind  by  a  way  they  have  not  known-!" 

And  oh !  it  ?^  a  lonely  and  a  mysterious  world,  that  in 
Avhich  these  destitute  beings  are  situated !  If,  in  the  super- 
natural world  of  revelation,  much  that  is  spoken  must  be 
to  them  incomprehensible,  how  much  more  are  they  inca- 
pacitated from  a  knowledge  of  the  world  of  nature!  Of 
all  those  qualities,  which  to  us  make  the  loveliest  distinctions 
of  things,  they  can  never  be  cognizant.  They  hear,  just  as 
we  would  listen  to  fables  of  another  planet,  of  the  splendors 
of  morn,  the  maturer  effulgence  of  noon,  the  pensive 
beauty  of  sunset:  they  know  that  differences,  which  only 
by  laborious  and  careful  examination  they  can  detect,  are 
instantaneously  evident  to  their  more  favored  companions ; 
they  know  that  there  is  around  them  some  wondrous  sys- 
tem of  things,  which  makes  this  world  more  rich  with 
meaning,  more  ample  in  its  materials  for  the  exercise  of  the 
faculties,  than  they  have  ever  been  able  to  imagine ;  they 
know, — though  how  it  should  be  they  cannot  conceive, — 
that  the  eye  can  behold  in  the  face  the  inmost  soul,  and  the 
heavens  themselves, — the  infinite  heavens, — be  not  too 
remote  for  human  knowledge.  And  yet,  from  all  this  they 
are  shut  out,  reft  of  the  brightest  element  in  the  earthly 
heritage  of  humanity,  and  exiles  in  the  common  country  of 
their  race  I  And  this,  surely,  is  fraught  with  melancholy, 
even  apart  from  every  spiritual  consideration.  For  oh! 
"  we  live  not  by  bread  alone,"  in  any  sense  of  these  holy 
words ;  it  is  not  by  the  mere  gratification  of  sensual  appetite 
that  the  human  soul  can,  even  in  its  corruption,  be  said  to 
live!  Ties  more  ethereal  bind  even  the  godless  to  some- 
thing better  than  an  animal  existence ;  and  when  the  yqyj 
unbeliever  walks  abroad,  though  he  sees  not  a  Father  in 
the  framer  of  the  mighty  all, — for  none  can  know  the  Father^ 
but  he  to  whom  the  Son  reveals  Him, — yet  in  the  very 
majesty  of  nature  is  ineffaceably  transcribed  the  majesty  of 
G(jd,— the  whole  world  is  itself  a  Bible  of  His  power  and 


SERM.  XXIII.]  in  Light  and  Love.  403 

wisdom !  In  the  fooling  of  these  things,  in  the  silent  aspi- 
rations they  prompt  and  nourish,  lies  (more  than  we  readily 
deem)  the  life  of  even  the  heart  untaught  in  Christ.  Know- 
ing how  thoughts  of  this  kind  (in  all  their  varieties)  make, 
even  to  the  natural  reason,  the  essence  of  all  that,  to  a  being 
formed  as  man  is,  can  merit  the  name  of  life,  how  can  we 
refuse  our  sympathy  to  tliose  to  whom  the  richest  channel 
of  this  knowledge  is  denied  ? — who  cannot  know  in  nature 
anything  beyond  its  least  expressive  elements,  who,  as  they 
creep  along  their  uncertain  way,  can  only  learn  by  the  poor 
medium  of  testimony,  that  there  spreads  above  them  a  dis- 
tance one  inch  beyond  that  to  which  their  uplifted  hands 
can  reach ;  and  who  are  forced  to  discover^  in  minute  and 
isolated  fragments,  that  grand  comprehensive  whole  of 
beauty,  with  which  God  has  decorated  his  natural  world 
into  a  palace  that  seems,  at  times,  the  fit  abode  not  for  men 
but  angels ! 

And  yet  to  have  once  possessed  the  faculty,  and  then 
irrecoverably  to  have  lost  it,  is,  in  some  respects,  even  more 
deeply  melancholy.  Of  that  which  we  have  never  known, 
we  know  not  half  the  value,  and  for  it  we  feel  no  jpropor- 
tionaie'  regret ;  but  to  have  been  once  on  a  level  with  the 
species  in  gifts  and  attainments,  and  then  to  have  sunk 
hopelessly  below  it ;  to  have  once  been  admitted  as  a  spec- 
tator into  the  magnificent  theatre  of  the  universe,  and  then 
obliged  for  ever  to  hoard  the  faint  reports  of  memory  for 
all  that  enraptured  of  old;  to  feel  the  poor  portraits  of 
recollection  fading  into  dimmer  obscurity ;  and  not  merely 
the  bright  and  beautiful  world  of  former  days,  whose  "  life 
was  light,"  deadened  into  a  dark  and  shapeless  mass ;  but, 
what  is  bitterer  far,  the  features,  on  which  affection  had 
once  rested  as  though  it  could  never  weary  of  gazing,  now 
recalled  with  painful  effort,  and  a  perplexity,  which  the 
sufferer  would  vainly  strive  to  disguise ; — this,  surely,  is  a 
trial  to  human  patience ;  this,  surely,  if  compassion  (which 
is  God's  loveliest  virtue  towards  man)  be  eminently  Chris- 


404  The  Christian's  Walk  [SERM.  XXIII. 

tiau,  ouglit  to  awake  your  pity,  and  make  your  charity  this 
day  prompt,  liberal,  and  decisive.  For  we,  beloved,  who 
have  walked,  long  and  wearily  many  of  us,  in  darkness 
and  the  shadow  of  death,  know  what  blindness  may  be,  and 
feel  its  every  form  besiege  our  hearts,  with  a  peculiar  claim. 
Oh!  if  the  soul  of  every  man.  Christian  or  Gentile,  has 
burned  within  him  as  he  read  that  sublime  imperative  of 
the  Supreme  Majesty  in  the  work  of  creation,  "  God  said, 
Let  there  be  light,  and  there  was  light !"  ivho  will  not  soften 
with  pity  as  he  sees  before  him  the  memorial  of  a  sadder,  a 
sterner  order  of  His  mysterious  providence,  "  God  said," — 
said  to  each  of  these  our  poor,  protectorless  sisters, — "  Let 
there  be  darkness,  and  there  was  darkness  I" 

In  the  community  of  such  a  misfortune,  distinctions, 
whether  of  sex  or  age,  seem  to  be  lost.  A  blow  so  awful 
levels  all  the  differences  on  which  the  coloring  of  ordinary 
life  depends.  Yet,  if  we  might  seleot  a  case  pre-eminent 
in  the  depth  and  intensity  of  the  mi  fortune,  should  we  not 
find  it  in  the  ]_:>oor  and  in  the  female  ?  Keduced  even  to 
mendicancy,  the  man  thus  afflicted  can  struggle  for  a  pre- 
carious livelihood,  and  often  finds  in  even  his  misfortune  a 
touching  claim  to  public  compassion.  But  the  fern-ale  can 
ill  resort  to  such  chances.  Her  peculiar  labors,  requiring 
delicacy  and  precision,  are  such  as  can  never  be  carried  on 
without  a  special  training  adapted  for  her  new  and  unfor- 
tunate position.  There  is  indeed  one  lovely  art,  which 
seems  the  peculiar  heritage  of  the  blind,  in  which  both 
sexes  are  equally  qualified  to  excel, — that  art  of  music,  to 
which,  as  exercised  in  this  place,  you  have  all  listened  with 
so  much  pleasure,  glorifying,  I  trust,  the  goodness  of  that 
God,  who,  in  depriving  the  eye  of  sight,  has  yet  left  the 
ear  its  hearing,  and  the  lip  its  power  to  speak  His  praise ! 
Organ  after  organ  may  depart, — the  eye  may  cease  to 
recognize  colors,  the  ear  to  detect  the  distinctions  of  sound, 
the  tongue  to  speak,  the  very  touch  to  feel,' — but  God's 
Holy  Spirit  can  still  animate  the  heart,  independent  of  all 


SERM.  XXIII.]  m  Light  and  Love.  405 

this  extraneous  machinery,  as  Jle  Himself  would  continue 
to  exist,  though  all  the  worlds  around  him  were  to  vanish 
into  chaos ! 

And  you,  my  afflicted  sisters,  who  have  now  heard  so 
much  of  your  own  misfortune,  to  you  what  shall  I  say  for 
consolation  f  What, — but  that  your  very  misfortune  is 
itself  a  lesson,  an  example,  an  experience?  The  loss  of 
that  which  reveals  the  world  is,  in  a  manner,  a  separation 
from  the  world  itself;  it  is  an  anticipation  of  that  which 
death  will  complete.  What  is  death  itself  but  the  succes- 
sive extinction  of  all  those  organs  by  which  we  hold  com- 
munion with  the  scene  around  us  ?  The  cessation  of  any 
sense  is,  then,  a  marked  step  in  our  descent  to  the  grave ; 
the  failure  of  the  noblest  of  the  senses  is  eminently  so. 
Providence  has  already  done  that  for  you,  which  human 
hands  must  have  to  do  for  all  around  you !  The  hour 
shall  yet  come  to  every  being  here,  when  other  hands  must 
close  the  glazed  eye  which  nature  has  sealed  for  yozi ;  and 
that  "  valley  of  the  shadow"  be  entered,  which  you  habitu- 
ally tread !  But  the  day  shall  come,  when  the  partiality 
of  nature  shall  be  lost  in  the  equality  of  grace  ;  when  the 
defective  organ  shall  be  strengthened  to  meet  a  brighter 
beam  ; — when  you,  sightless  sisters  of  affliction !  and  we, 
and  all,  shall  stand  before  the  "  great  white  throne ;"  nor 
shall  the  clouded  vision  veil  from  your  eyes  Him,  of  whom 
it  is  said  that  "  every  eye  shall  see  Him !"  Whether  the 
bodily  eye  can  behold  or  not,  the  spiritual  eye  can  appre- 
hend that  divine  radiance  which  exists  where  "  there  is  no 
light  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the  moon  ;  for  the  glory  of  God 
doth  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamh  is  the  light  thereof."  But 
the  bodily  eye  shall  behold,  for  in  that  better  and  spiritual 
body  shall  be  no  imperfection;  these  "priests  unto  God 
and  the  Father"  shall  not  be  less  complete,  in  every  percep- 
tive organ,  than  that  legal  priesthood  of  old  was  bound  to 
be!  In  how  deep  a  sense  will  they  praise  Him  "who 
hath  delivered  us  from  the  power  of  darkness,"  and  made 


406   The  Christiayi's  Walk  in  Light  and  Love.    [SERM.  xxill. 

us  partakers  of  "  an  inheritance  of  light !"  How  then  shall 
they  feel  with  a  double  force  that  "  light  is  sown  for  the 
righteous,  and  gladness  for  the  upright !"  And  now  grant, 
0  God!  that  under  the  ministration  of  Thy  blessed  word, 
maintained  this  day  by  the  charity  of  thy  Church,  they 
may,  in  this  world,  so  learn,  and  so  know,  the  lineaments 
of  Thy  Christ,  that  in  the  world  to  come  they  may  not  fail 
to  recognize  Him  ;  that  it  may  be  with  them  as  with  the 
favored  disciples  near  Emmaus, — "  Their  eyes  were  opened, 
and  THEY  KNEW  Him  I" 


SERMON  XXIV. 

PRIMITIVE  CHURCH  PRINCIPLES  NOT  INCONSISTENT  WITH 
UNIVERSAL  CHRISTIAN  SYMPATHY.^ 

Who  also  hath  made  us  able  ministers  of  the  New  Testament ;  not  of  the  letter, 
but  of  the  spirit. — 2  Corinthians  iii.  6. 

In  these  words,  my  brethren,  the  great  Apostle  affirms 
two  most  important  truths.  Vindicating  his  own  position, 
but  including,  doubtless,  with  himself,  all  who  share  his 
ministry,  he  asserts  at  once  its  authority  and  its  object; 
the  commission  by  which  it  is  empowered  to  act,  and  the 
essential  quality  of  the  religion  it  is  constituted  to  diffuse. 
"  God  hath  made  us  able  ministers," — such  is  the  source  of 
our  qualification  ;  "  ministers  not  of  the  letter,  but  of  the 
spirit," — such  is  the  nature  of  the  doctrine  we  have  to 
declare. 

St  Paul  did  not  perceive  any  inconsistency  between  this 
humble  confidence  in  divine  help  guaranteed  to  a  divinely- 
appointed  ministry,  and  the  purely  spiritual  character  of 
the  religion  for  which  alone  that  ministry  existed.  On  the 
contrary,  he  often  seems  to  consider  the  constitution  of 
such  an  office  to  have  been  itself  the  masterwork  of  the 
Spirit.^     But  others  have  been  unable  to  connect  these 

•  Preached  at  the  Visitation  of  the  united  dioceses  of  Derry  and 
Raphoe,  on  Thursday,  September  22nd,  1842;  and  published  at  the  re- 
quest of  the  Bishop  and  Clergy. 

2  Acts  xiii.  2 ;  xx.  28.  Rom.  xii.  6,  7.  1  Cor.  xii.  11,  28.  Eph.  iv. 
7,  8,  11. 


408  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent  [SERM.  xxiv. 

things.  It  has  been  conceived,  that  every  argument  which 
dares  to  deduce  the  authority  of  the  minister  directly  from 
his  Master  tends  inevitably  to  ecclesiastical  despotism  ;  or, 
at  least,  that  the  only  form  in  which  such  views  can  be 
safely  held  is  that  which  permits  all  who  at  their  own 
pleasure  or  that  of  others  assume  the  name,  to  stand  upon 
the  same  level  of  commissioned  power  and  privilege.  And, 
unfortunately,  the  just  claims  of  the  primitive  ministry  of 
the  Church,  when  defended  at  all,  have  been  too  often 
defended  with  a  harshness  and  rigor  of  unqualified  assump- 
tion, which,  while  it  may  have  attached  more  closely  a  few 
resolute  adherents,  has  certainly  alarmed  and  repelled  a  far 
greater  number. 

Gladly  would  I,  my  reverend  brethren,  were  I  to  follow 
my  own  preferences  in  selecting  a  subject  for  our  common 
consideration,  turn  from  these  troubled  themes  to  those 
points  of  ordinary  practical  importance  upon  which  no 
doubt  or  disagreement  could  be  anticipated.  But  I  am 
well  aware  that,  on  an  occasion  like  the  present,  it  is  not 
the  preferences  of  the  preacher,  but  the  circumstances  of 
the  times  and  the  immediate  interests  of  his  auditory,  that 
must  determine  his  subject.  The  great  lines  of  practical 
duty  are  manifest;  for  the  most  part,  whatever  our  God 
in  His  righteousness  has  made  most  necessary,  in  His 
mercy  He  has  made  most  unambiguous.  You  will  justly 
expect  to  be  addressed,  not  so  much  upon  that  which 
engages  us  equally  at  all  times,  as  upon  that  which  engages 
us  peculiarly  at  the  present  time ;  not  so  much  upon  the 
points  of  greatest  general  importance  in  the  ministerial  life, 
as  upon  some  of  those  pressing  questions  of  immediate 
perplexity,  which  we  feel  it  not  easy  to  solve  upon  our 
ordinary  principles  of  action,  and  which  make  even  the 
humblest  and  feeblest  light  valuable,  because,  emerging 
unexpectedly  upon  the  Church,  they  find  us  without  the 
guidance  of  habitual  rules  and  settled  experience. 

I  need  scarcely  observe  that  the  subject  to  which  I  have 


SERM.  XXIV.]  ivilh  Christian  S//mpalh7/.  409 

alluded  has,  of  late  years,  assumed  tliis  distressing  aspect. 
Oar  local  position  in  this  part  of  the  empire  has  given  it 
peculiar  importance  and  diihculty.  Situated  as  we  are,  in 
the  midst  of  large  bodies  of  excellent  and  able  men  who 
reject  indeed  our  ministrations,  yet  whom  we  are  bound  to 
conciliate  to  the  very  last  degree  that  involves  no  surrender 
of  principle;  the  public  mind  around  us  agitated  by  un- 
warrantable representations  of  the  Church's  belief  as  to  her 
ministry ;  and  those  whom  we  have  undertaken  to  guide 
anxiously  inquiring  of  us  our  real  claims; — Romanists 
with  some,  if  we  do  not  rank  every  thing  else  above  our 
office ;  Puritans  with  others,  if  we  do  not  rank  our  office 
above  every  thing  else ;  it  is  surely  fitting  that  we  should 
furnish  ourselves  with  some  definite  principles  on  the 
question,  capable  of  direct  and  practical  application.  When 
each  of  two  hostile  divisions  makes  a  separate  clause  of  our 
text  its  watchword,  and  the  spirituality  of  our  religion  is 
marslialled  against  its  authorized  polity, — the  polity  asserted 
in  a  form  that  too  often  obscures  or  overlooks  the  spirit- 
uality,— it  may  be  well  to  try  if  we  cannot,  with  St  Paul, 
rejoice  to  see  and  welcome  both. 

Did  we  not  know  by  experience,  how  men  can  in 
practice  unconsciously  harmonize  differences,  which  their 
theories  proclaim  absolutely  irreconcilable,  we  might  indeed 
well  wonder  how  the  supporters  of  views  so  opposed  as 
those  to  which  I  have  referred  could  continue  members  of 
the  same  ecclesiastical  body.  By  one  party  it  is  openly 
professed,  that  the  polity  of  the  Church  and  ministry  of 
Christ  is  entirely  a  matter  of  temporary,  occasional, 
variable  expediency;  that  all  bodies  and  all  individuals 
who  believe  in  the  name  of  Jesus  are  equally  contemplated 
in  His  original  charter,  and  equally  realize  His  original 
design.  By  the  other  it  is  usually  maintained  with  as 
resolute  a  conviction,  that  the  one  constitution  of  the 
Church  and  her  ministry,  being  in  every  element  essen- 
tially divine,  forms  the  sole  exclusive  machinery  of  human 
35 


■ilO  Church  Principles  not  i^iconsisient       [SERM.  XXIV. 

salvation;  that  to  it  alone  tbe  sanctifying  graces  of  the 
Gospel  are  promised ;  and  that  there  exists  no  ground  in 
the  New  Testament  for  anticipating  that  they  can  ever 
travel  out  of  the  channel  it  affords  for  their  transmission. 
The  eager  advocates  of  each  of  these  views  are  so  possessed 
with  the  absolute  truth  of  the  main  principle  for  which 
they  struggle,  as  to  overlook  the  enormous  difficulties  that 
challenge  them  when  they  descend  to  the  simple  facts  of 
the  case ;  when  the  bold  theory  of  the  latitudinarian  is  met 
not  only  by  the  internal  improbability  of  his  supposition, 
but  by  the  clear  evidence  of  Scripture  and  apostolic  anti- 
quity ;  when  the  rigorous  scheme  of  his  opponent  is 
encountered  by  the  overwhelming  evidence  of  daily  expe- 
rience, establishing,  by  the  most  decisive  attestations,  by 
proofs  which,  if  we  reject,  we  must  reject  all  human  reason- 
ing on  religion,  that  the  purifjnng  and  saving  graces  of  the 
Gospel  are  not  limited  as  he  would  affirm,  but  extend 
through  almost  every  community,  in  which  the  leading 
doctrines  of  the  faith  of  Christ  are  preached. 

When  views  thus  contradictory  and  thus  extreme  are 
put  forth;  when  it  is  certain  they  cannot  both  be  strictly 
true ;  when  both  may  be  made  in  their  degree  plausible  ; 
and  yet  facts  exist  that  seem  inconsistent  with  either; — 
the  most  valuable  service  that  can  be  rendered  to  the 
public  mind  is  the  work  of  limitation; — the  attempt  to 
show  under  what  qualifications  principles  true  in  them- 
selves ought  to  be  accepted,  so  as  to  make  them  consistent 
with  others  of  equal  certainty.  This  is  an  humble  task 
apparently;  but  the  whole  history  of  human  knowledge 
has  shown  that  it  is  far  from  being  an  easy  one  in  reality. 
The  most  important  steps  in  every  part  of  moral  science 
have  consisted  in  this  very  adjustment  of  rival  truths  ;  it 
is  much  less  difficult  to  see  the  force  of  a  great  principle 
than  to  see  its  limits. 

My  object,  then,  is  to  establish  that  just  and  strict  views 


SEEM.  XXI V.J         icilh  Christimi  SympatJiy.  411 

of  the  original  polity  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  nnd  of  our 
obligation  to  preserve  and  transmit  that  polity,  are  theoreti- 
cally consistent  with  a  full  recognition  of  the  fact  of  great 
and  genuine  piety  existing  in  irregular  and  less  happily 
constructed  communities  ;  of  the  consequent  possibility  and 
propriety  of  our  practically  sympathizing  with  many  of 
their  projects  of  benevolence,  and  of  our  cherishing  a 
Christian  and  charitable  affection  for  their  godly  members. 
And  therefore,  that  the  obligation  of  tliis  latter  duty,  and 
the  reality  of  the  blessed  and  delightful  fact  on  which  it  is 
founded  (the  existence  of  many  of  God's  richest  graces 
among  them),  furnish  no  legitimate  argument  against  the 
exclusive  claims  of  the  primitive  polity,  or  against  the 
duty  on  u.s  incumbent  of  stedfastly  upholding  it  as  alone 
representing  the  full  design  of  the  inspired  Apostles  of 
Jesus  Christ.  My  wish  is,  to  evince  that  loth  these  things 
are  scripturally  consistent ;  and  that  their  consistency  is 
perfectly  parallel  with  the  ordinary  operations  of  God  in 
His  kingdoms  of  providence  and  grace.  And  hence,  to 
tranquillize  the  fears  of  those  who  conceive,  either,  that  if 
they  accept  as  obligatory  the  primitive  system  of  the 
Church,  they  must  avoid  every  form  and  degree  of  spiritual 
recognition  toward  those  who  have  lost  it ;  or,  that  since 
they  cannot  accept  the  extravagant  theory  which  places 
the  pious  Presbyterian  and  Congregationalist  on  a  level 
with  the  heathen,  they  must  of  necessity  surrender  all  the 
exclusive  claims  of  the  ancient  episcopal  ministry. 

I.  Tlie  positions,  then,  which  I  consider  that  Ave,  as  the 
duly  commissioned  ministers  of  this  Church,  are  justified 
in  maintaining,  are  such  as  these : — 

First, — the  great  general  principle,  that  the  apostleship 
of  Jesus  Christ  is  still  and  for  ever,  in  the  world  ;  as  really 
in  all  the  substance  of  the  office,  as  when  it  was  held,  under 
circumstantial  differences  of  miraculous  attestation,  by 
Peter,  and  James,   and  John.      That    as,   "breathing  the 


■il2  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent       [SERM.  XXIV. 

breath"  of  natural  life  into  the  first  man,  He  gave  him  by 
a  single  act,  a  power  thenceforward  phj^sically  transmissive 
through  the  whole  immense  series  of  the  human  race ;  so 
(with  evident  allusion  to  that  act)  "breathing  on  them^'  the 
Holy  Ghost,  He  conferred,  once  for  all,  a  spiritual  power 
analogously  transmissive  to  innumerable  spiritual  suc- 
cessors. That  when  He  to  whom  "  all  power  is  given  in 
heaven  and  earth"  promised  to  be  "  ahvays,  unto  the  end 
of  the  world,"  present  with  His  eleven  mortal  Commissaries, 
He  spake  not  to  the  men  but  to  the  Office,  or  to  the  men 
as  the  temporary  symbols,  representatives,  and  occupants 
of  the  Office.  That  it,  therefore,  becomes  the  same  viola- 
tion of  His  appointed  order, — though  not,  from  the  absence 
of  miraculous  evidences,  so  visibly  such, — to  separate, 
under  any  pretext  of  sanctity,  from  this  succession,  without 
a  palpable  corruption  of  doctrine  (which  St  Paul  has  pro- 
nounced adequate  to  justify  separation  from  himself  (Gal.  i. 
8)), — as  it  would  have  been  for  holy  men,  during  the 
actual  ministry  of  the  Apostles,  to  have  neglected  all 
visible  communion  with  them^  under  the  pretext,  however 
true  and  sincere,  of  sufficiently  understanding  the  doctrine 
they  taught,  and  practising  the  life  they  recommended. 

Secondly, — that  this  general  conception  of  a  perpetual 
Apostolate,  intimated  as  it  clearly  is  in  Scripture,  and 
against  which  all  the  vulgar  objections  apply  with  precisely 
equal  force  to  any  ministerial  transmission  of  the  ministry, 
is  manifestly  confirmed  by  the  fact  of  the  organization  of 
the  apostolic  Churches,  both  laity  and  ministers,  under 
individual  governors,  exercising  exclusive  powers  of  ordi- 
nation and  spiritual  superintendence  even  witliin  the  limits 
of  the  New  Testament ;  by  the  universal  admission  in 
antiquity  of  the  claims  of  this  high  Stewardship  to  have 
been  the  direct  appointment  of  Him  who  "holdeth  in  His 
right  hand  the  stars"  which  are  "the  Angels  of  the 
Churches"  (Rev  i.  20  ;  ii.  1);  and  by  the  very  strong  pre- 


SERM.  XXIV.]  ivith  Chnstiaii  Sympathy.  413 

sumption,  far  more  than  sufficient  to  constitute  a  clear 
practical  obligation,  that  any  form  of  polity  universally 
constituted  at  sucli  a  time  was  meant  to  be  perpetual ;  it 
being  obviously  improbable,  not  to  go  into  any  more  direct 
evidence,  that  the  Apostles,  everywhere  insisting  on  the 
propriety  of  due  obedience  to  spiritual  directors,  and  them- 
selves having  habituated  the  Church  to  find  in  definite 
authority  the  main  external  bond  of  that  unity  they  so 
urgently  impressed,  should  yet,  as  they  passed  away,  leave 
the  Church  of  Christ  without  sluj  p)ermane7it  constitution, 
that  is,  should  provide  no  fixed  remedy  against  the  disso- 
lution of  the  polity  of  every  Church  in  the  world,  every 
month  of  its  existence,  at  the  caprice  of  a  majority. 

To  these  points  1  merely  allude ;  my  immediate  object 
assumes  them  as  proved  upon  their  proper  evidence,  and 
concerns  only  their  consequences.  I  therefore  proceed  to 
observe, — • 

Thirdly, — That  the  divine  and  exclusive  authority  of 
this  constitution  is  consistent  with  the  strong  probability 
that,  where  it  should  be  lost,  the  mercy  of  God  would  not 
suffer  that  unhappy  error  to  prevent  the  gift  of  His  graces 
to  those  who  sincerely  sought  them.  This  point  contains 
the  real  essence  of  the  whole  controversy ;  and,  therefore, 
to  this  I  must  request  your  special  attention.  I  will  not 
apologize  for  taxing  that  attention  by  something  of  a  severe 
and  systematic  argument ;  for  I  am  addressing  an  auditory 
which  I  should  insult  by  supposing  that  it  could  desire 
anything  else  on  such  a  subject. 

II.  1.  It  is  always  dangerous  to  undertake  to  say  what 
are  means  alone,  and  what  are  ends  alone,  in  the  ordinances 
of  Providence ;  yet  if  we  may  in  any  case  venture  to  do 
this,  it  is  in  the  case  of  the  Christian  ministry,  which  is 
everywhere  represented,  as  indeed  the  name  itself  implies, 
in  the  subordinate  or  instrumental  character  of  a  means 
instituted  for  certain  divine   purposes  higher  than  itself, 

85* 


414  Church  PrincipJes  not  inconsistent       [SERM.  XXI V. 

namely,  for  individual  and  collective  holiness.^  The 
ministry  as  fixed  by  the  Apostles  is  the  instrumentality 
which  Christ  lias  organized  for  converting  and  guiding  the 
world  in  things  spiritual;  and  His  divine  law  attaches  a 
special  blessing  to  its  duly  executed  ministrations,  when- 
ever the  course  of  the  blessing  is  not  interrupted  by  the 
negligence  or  the  wilfulness  of  its  designed  objects.  This 
is  Christ's  law  of  the  ministry.  But  another  law,  equally 
certain,  and  of  yet  larger  compass,  attaches  a  general  bless- 
ing to  the  act  of  sincere  faith  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ ;  a 
blessing  which  may  indeed  be  increased  by  other  means  of 
grace,  or  altogether  suspended  if  we  wilfully  neglect  them  ; 
but  which,  nevertheless,  supposing  "  an  honest  and  good 
heart"  in  the  receiver,  is  attached  without  express  limitation 
to  the  cordial  reception  of  divine  truth,  simply  as  such. 
Through  whatever  channel  the  knowledge  arrive,  we  njust 
still  confess  it  "  life  eternal  to  know  the  only  true  God, 
and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he  hath  sent;"  and  where  that 
knowledge  is  not  co7yip)lete  (as  by  the  loss  of  important 
collateral  doctrines)  we  cannot,  either  from  the  reason  of 
the  thing,  or  from  the  information  of  experience,  deny  it  to 
be  ordinarily  effective  for  sanctification  and  salvation,  so /ar, 
as  it  is  possessed.  Nor  can  it,  without  a  melancholy  per- 
versity, be  maintained,  either  that  the  peculiar  doctrines  of 
which  I  am  now  treating  (those  which  regard  the  Apostolic 
Constitution  of  the  Church)  are  such  in  themselves  that 
their  absence  deprives  those  which  remain  of  all  true 
sanctifying  and  saving  power;  or  that  the  whole  vast 
residue  of  divine  truth  is,  by  a  special  suspension  of  the 
covenant  of  grace,  deprived  of  this  efficacy  in  all  cases 
where  perfect  church  communion  is  lost;  the  latter  sup- 
position being  as  much  opposed  to  experience  as  the  former 
is  to  all  just  conceptions  of  the  proportion  and  connections 

'  Matt.  XX.  27,  28.  1  Cor.  iii.  21,  22;  ix.  19.  2  Cor.  i.  24;  iv.  5.  Eph. 
iv.  12—1(5.     1  Pet.  iv.  10. 


SERM.  XXIV.]         icith  Christian  Sijwjiathj,  415 

of  revealed  doctrines.  Nor  indeed  do  I  think  that  this 
ground  can  be  fairly  held  by  any  one  who  is  not  prepared 
(in  a  very  mistaken  view  of  the  reverence  due  to  mystical 
and  sacramental  influences)  to  question  the  whole  principle 
that  divine  Jmowledr/e,  purely  as  such,  is,  when  cordially 
received,  made  ordinarily  efhcacious  to  holiness  and  to 
salvation  ;  a  principle,  to  establish  which  from  direct  and 
indirect  scriptural  testimonies,  would  be  to  transcribe 
nearly  the  whole  Bible.  It  seems,  therefore,  quite  un- 
deniable, that  if  any  number  of  persons  were  to  agree  to 
set  themselves  apart  for  the  purpose  of  offering  that  know- 
ledge, or  a  principal  portion  of  that  knowledge,  to  mankind, 
we  hav^e  strong  scriptural  grounds  for  anticipating,  that 
that  offer  would  be  attended  with  results  of  savintr  benefit 
altogether  irrespectively  of  any  direct  commission  for  the 
purpose.  It  is  wrong  to  affirm  that  the  hearers  of  such 
uncommissioned  persons  "must  be  left  to  the  extraordinary 
mercies  of  God  ;"  for  there  unquestionably  is  an  ordinary 
dispensation,  intimated  without  qualification,  and  fully 
interpreted  by  subsequent  experience,  which  attaches 
divine  influences  to  "the  hearing  of  faith;"  influences 
which  grow  in  regular  proportion  to  faith  itself,  from  its 
weakest  to  its  strongest  intensity  in  the  subject,  from  its 
smallest  to  its  largest  extension  in  the  object  of  that  funda- 
mental grace,  but  which,  in  one  degree  or  other,  are  in- 
variably attached  to  it  as  such.  This  is  a  transcendental 
law  (as  the  schoolmen  would  have  termed  it),  with  which 
none  of  inferior  extent  can  rightly  be  conceived  to  interfere ; 
but  by  which,  on  the  other  hand,  no  inferior  law  is  con- 
travened, or  limited,  or  anywise  disturbed.  It  not  only 
can  co-exist  with  the  most  rigorous  obligations  to  the  ap- 
pointed ministry,  but  it  actually  strengthens  the  force  of 
these  obligations,  and  even  strengthens  them  in  virtue  of 
its  very  generality ;  for  in  ^proportion  to  the  extent  and  free- 
ness  of  the  mercy  of  God,  ought  to  be  the  impulse  carefully 
to  search  out,  and  scrupulously  to  fufil,  every  one  of  His 


416  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent       [SERM.  XXIV. 

ordinances.  Nor,  therefore,  can  this  view  (except  by  a 
gross  abuse),  lead  to  any  indifference  to  positive  institu- 
tions: it  being  quite  certain  that  he  who  wilfully  neglects 
the  positive  ordinances  of  God,  on  pretext  of  possessing 
sufficient  holiness  independent  of  them,  does  thereby  in- 
fallibly prove  the  falsity  of  his  own  pretext. 

2.  This  principle,  that  a  strong  obligation  to  a  particular 
polity  may  co-exist  with  a  general  law  of  divine  benevo- 
lence, might  be  exemplified  largely :  my  limits  will  only 
permit  of  my  noticing  one  or  two  instances,  and  these  very 
transiently.  The  honest  heathen,  "doing  by  nature  the 
things  contained  in  the  law," — the  Socrates  or  the  Solon, — 
was,  doubtless,  not  destitute  of  his  measure  of  divine  ap- 
probation; yet  the  Jew,  and  the  heathen  received  into 
Jewish  membership,  even  though  he  had  brought  with  him 
all  the  largest  lights  of  philosophic  morality  into  that 
strict  and  rigorous  system,  were  not  the  less  imperatively 
obliged  to  a  special  code  of  beliefs  and  ordinances  as  their 
sole  declared  path  of  acceptable  service.  Again,  among 
the  Jews  themselves,  in  our  Saviour's  age,  perhaps  the  very 
most  corrupt  portion  was  the  most  precise  in  observances, 
the  purest  body  the  most  irregular  in  its  Judaism  ;  nor  can 
any  one  who  knows  how  He  hath  set  mercy  above  sacrifice 
doubt  as  to  their  relative  estimation  with  God ;  yet  who 
will  deny  that  the  Essene  was  unwarranted  in  presuming 
to  neglect  or  undervalue  what  the  Pharisee  by  unspiritu- 
ality  discredited  ?  Such  cases  as  these  show  the  force  of 
the  principle  as  one  of  very  general  applicability  in  the 
divine  government  of  the  world.  They  are  instances  that 
the  fact  of  divine  aid  and  approbation  visibly  given  to 
bodies  renouncing  the  original  constitution  of  the  Church, 
is  one  which  our  experience  of  the  ways  of  God  might 
have  taught  us  to  anticipate;  one  at  which  we  are  bound 
to  rejoice  as  a  striking  manifestation  of  the  supremacy  of 
the  purely  spiritual  element  in  our  religion,  and  the  mercy, 
victorious  ov(^r  all   obstacles,  of  a  God  who  "vvaiteth  to  be 


SERM.  XXIV.]  icith  Chrislicm  ^^iijmjmthy .  417 

gracious"  to  every  sincere  supplicant;  but  which  does  not 
form  the  shadow  of  a  presumption  against  the  exchisive 
authority,  perpetual  obligation,  and  specific  blessedness 
of  the  primitive  system  of  ministerial  government  and 
succession. 

III.  Another  view  of  this  important  question,  which  is 
quite  as  simple,  quite  as  strongly  supported  by  the  general 
analogy  of  divine  dealings,  and  which  leads  to  the  same 
result,  is  that  derived  from  what  may  be  called  the  prin- 
ciple of  accommodation.  By  this  I  mean  the  principle 
observable  in  God's  merciful  dispensations,  of  suiting 
Himself  to  the  infirmities  and  errors  of  His  creatures,  by 
occasional  variations  of  His  stated  laws,  without  any  repeal 
of  those  laws  themselves. 

To  begin  from  the  highest  ground.  It  is  evident  that 
all  mercy  is  an  accommodation  of  this  kind;  a  suspension 
in  special  cases  of  the  execution  of  the  laws  of  rigorous 
justice,  these  laws  still  preserving  their  supreme  authority, 
and  being  virtually  acknowledged  in  the  very  gratitude 
that  hails  their  apparent  supersession.  Consider  next,  that 
the  great  perpetual  exercise  of  divine  goodness  consists  in 
the  bestowal  of  divine  "grace;"  the  name  of  which  on 
account  of  this  very  eminence,  has  become  in  a  manner 
ambiguous  in  the  New  Testament,  being  applied  equally 
to  the  mercy  that  gives  and  to  the  boon  that  is  given. 
Now,  the  primary  and  ordinary  end  of  grace  is,  doubtless, 
the  support  of  unfallen  beings  through  the  universe,  as  it 
is  usually  supposed  to  have  been,  of  our  own  race  before 
the  fall;  and  in  its  general  collation  it  was  made  dependent 
for  continuance  on  the  thankful  and  uj)right  use  of  it  by 
the  creature.  Yet,  while  this  law  of  grace  is  still  pre- 
served through  the  millions  that  adhere  to  God  in  all  the 
regions  of  His  creation;  while  in  strictness  it  might  legiti- 
mately be  enforced  on  ourselves ;  we  know  that  the  law 
has  been  in  our  case  specially  widened,  and  we  are  thank- 
ful for  the  enlargement,  as  an  act  of  conspicuous  mercy  in 


418  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent       [SEKM.  XXIV. 

the  sudden  accommodation  of  divine  gifts  to  suit  the  case 
of  a  lost  and  ruined  race.  And  the  special  accommodation 
has  now  become  an  enactment  of  divine  goodness,  as  sure 
and  ordinary  as  the  original  law.  But  we  may  proceed 
farther  still.  Under  the  accommodation  the  gift  itself  has 
actually  become  more  ample  and  more  precious.  The  Ee- 
demption  achieved  by  Christ  seems  meant  (through  the 
connection  of  God  and  man  in  His  person)  to  exalt  the 
creature  to  a  far  higher  ultimate  position  in  creation  than 
he  would  originally  have  possessed;  while  the  peculiar 
embarrassments  of  a  fallen  being,  struggling  against  inward 
frailty  and  outward  temptation,  give  occasion  for  a  larger 
and  more  constant  measure  of  assistance  from  heaven  in 
i\iQ  present  state.  This,  I  need  not  remind  you,  is  the  spirit 
of  those  reasonings  of  St  Paul  in  the  fifth  and  the  follow- 
ing chapters  of  his  Epistle  to  the  Eomans;  where  he  unfolds 
how  the  law  of  God,  and  the  sin,  of  which,  through  the 
weakness  of  our  flesh,  it  was  the  occasion,  were  themselves, 
in  the  vast  and  profound  scheme  of  Providence,  the  means, 
— and  the  necessary  means, — of  evolving  a  far  m.ore 
wondrous  exhibition  of  mercy;  in  order  that  "where  sin 
abounded"  grace  might  "superabound."  It  may,  indeed, 
be  doubted  whether  the  goodness  of  God  could  ever  have 
been  duly  appreciated,  if  by  the  existence  of  sin  it  had  not 
been  led  to  assume  the  form  of  mercy ;  whether  in  a 
universe  of  simple  absolute  righteousness,  it  would  not 
inevitably  tend  to  appear  an  attribute  acting  by  a  kind  of 
physical  necessity  of  distributing  happiness  in  proportion 
to  virtue,  and  thus  cease  to  excite  any  very  definite  or 
intense  emotion  of  gratitude.  It  would  seem  that,  at  least 
to  beings  formed  in  our  mould,  the  contemplation  of  an 
enmity  voluntarily  pardoned  can  alone  render  this  attribute 
strongly  prominent  and  characteristic;  just  as  the  sense  of 
divine  icisdom  becomes  deadened,  when  confined  to  mere 
results,  without  the  perception  of  elaborate  contrivance  and 
dilTicultics  circuitoLisly  overcome.     The  force  of  the  smooth 


SERM.  XXIV.]         icitli  Christian  l^ympathij.  419 

current  is  not  created  by  the  obstacle,  but  it  is  manifested 
by  it,  measured  by  it,  and  might  for  ever  remain  unsus- 
pected without  it.  This  speculation  might  be  carried  much 
farther;  even,  as  I  imagine,  so  far,  as  to  show  that  for  the 
very  idea  of  goodness,  as  a  distinct  positive  apprehension 
in  the  minds  of  created  beings,  some  contrast  of  actual 
evil  seems  requisite;  just  as,  probably,  of  all  the  animated 
beings  in  our  solar  system,  those,  if  such  there  be,  who 
dwell  in  the  sun,  have  the  least  distinct  idea  of  light, 
because  they  have  no  contrasted  experience  of  actual  dark- 
ness, and  because  merely  possible  privations,  if  even  con- 
ceivable at  all,  can  never  impress  but  faintly.  You  may 
reflect  whether  such  considerations,  showing  the  apparent 
necessity  of  evil  for  all  practical  apprehension  of  good,  do 
not  afford  some  reason  for  the  permission  of  its  existence. 
Bat  I  must  return  to  my  immediate  object.  Notwithstand- 
ing, then,  all  this  wonderful  development  of  the  resources 
of  divine  mercy,  pre-supposing  a  fall  from  original 
righteousness,  and  arising  solely  out  of  it,  no  one,  I  suppose, 
will  deny,  either,  that  even  the  full  and  certain  knowledge 
of  the  whole  series  of  fature  blessings  to  spring  from  his 
sin,  would  not  have,  in  the  slightest  degree,  diminished 
Adam's  obligation  to  obedience,  and  the  criminality  of  his 
rebellion ;  or  that,  could  the  alternative  be  at  this  moment 
referred  to  ourselves,  we  should  be  bound,  in  simple  sub- 
mission to  the  divine  law,  to  prefer  that  our  race  had  never 
transgressed,  and  calmly  to  leave  the  rest  to  God.  With 
this  striking  example  impressed  on  your  minds,  and  sepa- 
rating (as  you  may  easily  do)  the  principle  involved  in  it 
from  its  details,  consider,  first, — is  it  unlikely  that  God 
should  appoint  a  special  organization  of  the  means  of  grace 
ill  His  Church  ?  Secondly, — that  when  that  organization 
had  been  more  or  less  impaired.  He  should  condescend  to 
continue  His  gifts  in  a  manner  accommodated  to  the  altera- 
tion? Thirdly, — that  in  some  instances,  the  graces  thus 
conferred  should  be  even  more  precious  and  brilliant  in 


420  Church  Princix>les  not  inconsistent       [serm.  XXIV. 

themselves  and  their  results,  than  were  always  or  often 
exhibited  under  the  original  arrangement?  And,  never- 
theless, fourthly, — that  the  change  out  of  which  His 
measureless  wisdom  liad  framed  such  evidences  of  placa- 
bility and  mercy,  should  itself  be  a  fall  from  a  better  state, 
a  violation  of  declared  law,  a  thing  to  be  mourned,  and 
repented,  and  remedied  ? 

IV.  1.  A  modification  of  this  same  principle  places  in 
its  proper  light  the  objection  (perhaps  the  most  plausible 
of  all)  to  the  doctrine  of  a  single  fixed  and  universal  form 
of  church  polity,  so  often  drawn  from  the  alleged  advantages 
of  religious  dissent;  in  its  tendency  to  urge  rival  bodies  to 
watchfulness,  in  its  provision  for  the  diversity  of  human 
tempers,  in  its  development  of  truth  by  the  conflict  of 
opinions.  The  fact  here  affirmed  appears  to  me  to  be,  in 
its  limited  degree,  unquestionable;  but  it  affords  no  real 
presumption  against  the  doctrine  it  is  employed  to  oppose. 
Indeed,  though  it  could  be  proved  that  variance  in  the  body 
of  Christian  believers  was,  in  the  enfeebled  state  of  that 
body,  not  merely  useful,  but  absolutely  necessary  to  keep 
its  energies  alive,  this  unhappy  fact  would  be  no  proof  that 
it  was  not  our  individual  duty  to  labor  to  recover  the  origi- 
nal ordinance  of  unity.  For  surely  we  need  not  pass 
beyond  the  very  instance  on  which  I  have  lately  insisted, 
to  see  that,  in  God's  dealings  with  man,  laws  emerge,  in 
consequence  of  a  fall  from  a  prior  and  better  state,  which 
produce  in  the  new  and  inferior  state  consequences  allowa- 
ble, valuable,  even  indispensable ;  and  which,  nevertheless, 
we  cannot  but  earnestly  desire  to  remove,  in  removing  the 
condition  that  permits  or  necessitates  them.  In  the  unfallen 
state  death  was  unknown  ;  in  the  present  constitution  of 
the  animate  creation  birth  is  not  more  necessary  to  its  con- 
tinuance than  death;  the  play  of  its  mechanism  would  be 
stopped  as  certainly  if  no  man  were  to  die  as  if  no  man 
wore  to  be  born.  How,  for  this  purpose,  the  tendency  to 
war,  the  visitations  of  pestilence,  are  not  without  their  pro- 


SERM.  XXIV.]         loith  Christian  Sympathy.  421 

vidential  use,  I  need  not  urge;  it  is  enough  to  say,  that  all 
that  vast  system  of  corrupt  or  imperfect  motives  which 
Scripture  calls  "  the  world"  is  itself  a  mass  of  these  second- 
ary laws  of  exquisite  art,  working  in  each  other  with  pre- 
cision the  most  subtle  and  exact,  and  all  in  their  degree 
necessary  for  the  maintenance  of  the  whole  scheme  of 
human  life  as  it  stands ;  yet  this  it  is  which  we,  living  in 
the  midst  of  it,  are  called  on  to  abhor,  to  forsake,  and  to 
reform.  The  provisions,  then,  in  the  new  creation  of  the 
Church,  as  those  in  the  old  creation  of  nature,  which  our 
own  degradation  has  made  useful  or  necessary,  have  no 
claim  of  perpetuity  beyond  that  degradation  itself;  the  sys- 
tem of  grace  and  the  system  of  providence  may  be  equally 
aided  by  stimulants  which  are  foreign  to  their  primary 
constitution ;  nor  is  the  reality  of  such  incidental  motives 
in  either  Church  or  world  a  proof  that  the  original  design 
of  God  Avas  not  above  them,  beyond  them,  altogether  inde- 
pendent of  their  mediation. 

2.  And  as  the  alleged  occasional  advantages  of  separa- 
tion are  thus  shown  to  be  perfectly  consistent  with  the 
divine  purpose  and  constitution  of  universal  church  unity ; 
so  you  will  find  the  same  mode  of  reasoning  furnish  suffi- 
cient answer  to  all  those  more  daring  forms  of  argument  in 
which  it  is  attempted  to  be  shown, — not  merely  that  variety 
of  government  has  its  advantages,  but  that  uniformity,  and 
more  especially  uniformity  of  episcopal  control,  carries  in 
it  an  inherent  and  inevitable  tendency  to  corruption^  usurpa- 
tion, and  the  ultimate  formation  of  an  ecclesiastical  mon- 
archy. It  seems  to  be  a  law  of  our  present  imperfect  state, 
that  every  divine  gift  must,  more  or  less,  suffer  by  entering 
it;  coming  from  God,  it  yet  comes  to  man ;  and  in  such 
hands  the  gift  alters  in  the  ver3^  process  of  using  it.  The 
"  natural  tendency"  complained  of  is  not  in  the  constitution 
of  the  Church,  but  in  the  corruption  of  man ;  nor  is  the 
ordinary  objection  against  the  divine  authority  of  this  spe- 
cial Christian  polity  (that,  naturally  tending  to  a  papal 
36 


422  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent       [SERM.  XXlV. 

supremacy,  it  cannot  Lave  been  designed  by  Christ,  unless 
that  eventual  transition  was  likewise  in  His  design)  at  all 
more  conclusive  than  it  would  be  against  the  divine  consti- 
tution of  the  Jewish,  which  "naturally," — that  is,  from 
human  pride,  indolence,  and  impatience, — passed  iuto  a 
monarchy  also.  In  each  there  was  the  criminal  substitution 
of  a  visible  for  an  invisible  governor ;  the  literal  and  the 
mystical  Israel  both  murmured,  "Nay,  but  a  kiug  shall 
reign  over  us ;  when  the  Lord  their  God  was  their  king  ;"^ 
even  this  very  revolution  was  itself  expressly  anticipated 
in  the  provisions  of  the  Mosaic  Law  f  and  we  know  how 
the  predicted  change  was,  nevertheless,  characterized  as 
rebellion,  and  marked  with  the  special  resentment  of  heaven. 
The  truth  seems  to  be,  that  God  tries  His  Church  as  He 
tries  its  individual  members :  by  placing  both  in  positions 
that  bring  temptation^  by  making  the  temptation  increase  in 
proportion  to  the  crimes  and  wilfulness  of  both,  and  by 
making  the  sin  of  both  involve  its  own  p)unishment.  Co- 
equal episcopacy  afforded  a  natural  temptation  to  partisan- 
ship and  ambition ;  the  criminal  dissensions  of  the  Church 
recommended  the  Papal  expedient  for  enforcing  union,  and 
gave  opportunity  to  the  most  powerful  see  to  usurp  a  des- 
potic arbitration:  and  I  need  not  insist  how  fatally  the 
desertion  of  the  Apostolic  Constitution  has  brought  with  it 
its  own  punishment  in  the  consequent  corruption,  debase- 
ment and  slavery  of  half  the  existing  church  of  Christ.  It 
would  be  unjust  to  the  claims  of  God's  marvellous  mercy, 
not  to  add,  that  here  too  (as  in  the  former  part  of  our  sub- 
ject) it  has  found  opportunities  for  extracting  benefits  out 
of  evil.  The  careful  student  of  ecclesiastical  history  is  not 
unable  to  see  that,  in  the  wretched  circumstances  of  the 
times,  even  the  Papal  system  had  its  occasional  uses;  the 
body  of  Christ,  like  the  natural  body,  being  permitted  to 
possess  a  sort  of  vis  medicatrix,  by  which  its  very  diseases 

'  1  Sam.  xii.  12.  2  p^ut.  xvii.  14. 


SERM.  XXIV.]         iviih  Christian  iSymjMthy.  423 

produce  results  that  tend  in  some  degree  to  alleviate  them- 
selves. 

On  the  whole,  then,  we  have  seen  that  it  is  quite  possible 
to  consider  the  Apostolic  Constitution  of  the  Church  as  the 
established  dispensation  of  the  means  of  grace,  and  to 
regard  adherence  to  that  constitution  as  a  peremptory  and 
perpetual  duty; — and  yet  to  recognize  the  reality  of  its 
occasional  degradation ;  the  independency  of  divine  grace 
on  its  necessary  instrumentality;  the  benefits  that  have 
been  attained  beyond  its  verge  ;  and  even  the  benefits  that 
have  been  at  times  permitted  to  arise  from  opposing,  and 
disputing,  and  suspending  its  legitimate  claims. 

V.  1.  But  it  may  probably  be  urged,  that  all  these  con- 
cessions are  not  sufficient,  unless  we  admit  within  the  circle 
of  the  Church  itself  the  various  forms  of  association  which 
have  been  made  the  occasions  of  grace  to  believers  in 
Christ ;  that  is,  unless  we  include  within  our  conception  of 
the  Church  every  existing  or  possible  social  organization 
for  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel.  And  it  is  supposed  that, 
unless  this  admission  be  made,  it  will  still  be  necessary  to 
exclude  many  of  the  holiest  disciples  of  Christ  from  that 
sole  claim  to  eternal  happiness  which  is  founded  in  being 
members  of  His  mystical  body. 

But  there  need  not  arise  any  very  perplexing  difficulty 
on  this  point.  We  are  not  forced,  in  order  to  save  the 
pious  Dissenter,  to  make  his  irregular  society  an  integral 
portion  of  the  mystical  body  of  Christ ;  the  mercy  of  God 
secures  his  salvation,  when  he  is  to  be  saved,  on  deeper 
grounds  than  this.  If  that  mercy  can  give  grace  at  all  (as 
no  man  should  dare  deny)  independently  of  the  Apostolic 
Constitution,  it  surely  can  give  the  preliminary  grace, — the 
source  of  all,  and  which  all  others  presuppose, — of  the 
mystical  membership  of  Christ ;  and  if  to  the  all-searching 
eye  of  God  this  constitute  that  celestial  ground  of  church- 
membership,  of  which  visible  sacraments  are  the  earthly 
counterparts  and  the  ordinary  instruments,  then  assuredly 


424  Church  Prwciples  not  inconsistent       [SERM.  XXIV. 

the  same  act  of  grace  which  made  him  one  with  Christ  has 
spiritually  incorporated  him  into  the  Church,  wdth  which 
holy  Society  he  is  thenceforth  numbered,  even  though,  in 
unconscious  contradiction  to  the  will  of  God,  and  doubtless 
to  his  own  detriment,  he  unhappily  lives  without  fulfilling 
its  corresponding  earthly  conditions.  It  is  the  primary 
purpose  of  God,  that  all  within  His  Church  should  be  holy, 
that  all  holy  men  should  be  within  Ilis  Church  ;  the  blessed 
design  has  been  contravened  in  hoth  respects  ;  and  the  same 
difficulty,  if  there  be  any,  arises  equally  from  both.  Mil- 
lions within  the  Church  are  but  nominally  its  members ; 
thousands  beyond  it  appear  in  the  enjoyment  of  its  real 
graces : — as  the  wricked  within  it  are  spiritually  excluded 
from  its  real  communion,^  so  the  holy  outside  it  are  spirit- 
ually included  in  its  circle;  these  special  arrangements  of 
God  as  to  individual  souls  in  no  respect  altering  either  the 
duty  of  men,  or  the  nature  of  the  Church  itself,  as  the  king- 
dom of  Christ,  and  the  sole  appointed  school  of  immor- 
tality. In  a  word,  the  same  grace  which,  condescending 
to  human  infirmities,  could  make  a  man  a  believer  in  the 
Gospel  in  despite  of  his  unwitting  desertion  of  God's 
arrangements,  can,  doubtless,  in  the  same  despite,  secretly 
enrol  him  in  the  list  of  the  household  of  God  along  with  the 
Church's  baptized  children ;  nor  is  there  at  all  more  diffi- 
culty in  the  one  supposition  than  in  the  other. 

2.  But  it  is  plain  that  this  special  favor  to  individuals  in 
no  respect  necessarily  extends  to  consecrate  or  authorize 
societies.  We  believe,  and  we  rejoice  to  believe  it  of  the 
former,  because  we  see  results  which  we  know  can  only- 
flow  from  the  union  of  mystical  membership  with  the 
divine  Head;  we  have,  I  fear,  no  similar  proof  to  justify 

'  The  most  respectable  of  even  the  Romish  theologians  have  sanc- 
tioned this  decision ;  and  the  grounds  upon  which  they  proceed  are 
plainly  applicable  to  the  corresponding  case  of  godly  dissentients  from 
the  apostolic  fellowship. 


SERM.  XXIV.]  VAth  Chrisllan  Symixithy.  425 

us  in  extending  the  principle  to  the  latter.  We  certainly 
may  believe  that  every  single  member  of  a  schismatical 
congregation  has  been,  by  God's  mercy,  made  a  member  of 
Christ,  and  in  the  same  secret  act  (for  the  ideas  are  insepar- 
ably correlative)  registered  in  heaven  a  member  of  the 
Church  which  is  His  body;  and  yet  believe  that  that  con- 
gregation is  itself,  as  such,  existing  in  direct  opposition  to 
His  will,  because  in  opposition  to  that  blessed  Society  by 
which  he  originally  purposed  to  dispense  His  graces,  and 
because  by  that  opposition  delaying  His  further  purpose, 
through  the  same  Society,  to  bind  in  one  brotherhood  all 
the  families  of  mankind.  Surely  there  is  nothing  sophisti- 
cal or  illusory  in  the  distinction.  Surely  it  is  conceivable 
that  individuals  may,  by  the  grace  of  God,  be  enrolled  in 
the  number  of  Christ's  elect  people;  that  they  may  thus 
form  a  real  portion  of  that  flock  on  which  His  eye  rests 
with  peculiar  affection ;  that,  in  his  abounding  mercy,  they 
may  live  in  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  varied  blessings  which 
His  Church  was  primarily  constituted  to  diffuse, — "  sitting 
together,"  with  its  brightest  saints,  "  in  heavenly  places  in 
Christ  Jesus ;"  and  be  thus  in  the  eye  of  God  accounted 
true  members  of  it  in  being  members  of  Him ; — and  yet, 
that  the  system  of  polity  and  visible  association  to  which 
they  externally  adhere  may  form  no  real  portion  of  the 
primitive  Church  of  Christ,  may  be  incompatible  with  its 
original  idea,  and  actually  perilous  to  the  spirit  it  was  meant 
to  generate  and  to  foster.  And  this  will  hold,  consistently 
with  many  suppositions  commonly  conceived  to  nullify  it. 
As,  for  instance,  even  though  (1)  that  very  system  were 
itself  overruled  to  be  the  earthly  instrument  of  their  growth 
in  holiness ;  or,  (2)  even  though  it  were  (as  all  provisions 
for  preaching  truth  must  in  their  degree  be)  in  some  respects 
inherently  adapted  for  that  instrumentality.  It  is  even  sup- 
posable  (3)  that  the  occasional  workings  and  results  of  such 
a  system  may  not  be  viewed  without  a  certain  measure  of 
divine  approhation ;  especially  if  thev  approximate  to  the 

36^ 


426  Church  Principles  not  mconsistent       [SERM.  XXIV. 

original  plan,  or  tend  in  any  degree  to  preserve  its  spirit. 
Or  is  it  supposable  (4)  that  these  societies,  when  pure  and 
exemplary,  may  be  divinely  regarded  as  transitions  to  a 
better  and  brighter  state  of  future  catholic  union  ;  or  again 
(5)  as  temporary  forms  of  association,  in  which  some  im- 
portant principles  may  be  embodied  and  preserved  that 
would  otherwise  have  run  the  chance  of  utter  extinction 
in  the  world, — fastnesses  where  some  high  and  holy  truths 
have  taken  refuge  for  a  time,  while  the  City  of  God  was 
itself  given  over  to  pollution,  and  the  abomination  of  deso- 
lation was  standing  in  the  holy  place.  Nay,  it  is  supposa- 
ble (6)  that  the  whole  body  of  such  systems,  though  human 
and  unauthorized,  may  be  found  to  form  designed  memhers 
in  a  vast  scheme  of  divine  moral  government,  of  which  the 
Church  itself  is  as  yet  but  a  part,  though  the  noblest  part; 
or  (7)  that  they  may  be  discovered  to  have  even  advanced 
the  spiritual  progress  of  some  natures  more  rapidly,  not 
than  the  apostolic  principle  is  capacitated  in  itself  to  do, 
but — than  it  would  actually  have  succeeded  in  doing  in 
certain  unhappy  conjunctures  of  times  and  circumstances. 
Not  one  of  these  admissions  (some  of  which  seem  often 
confusedly  alleged  with  this  view)  does  in  any  respect  dis- 
turb or  weaken  the  distinction  I  have  drawn. 

3.  But  farther,  it  must,  I  think  be  ruled, — that  as  all 
fixed  government  is  in  itself,  as  such^  a  blessing  and  divine; 
as  decency  and  order  in  religious  societies  are  themselves, 
as  such,  favored  by  heaven ;  we  may  not  doubt  that  God 
approves  of  all  religious  constitutions  as  far  preferable  to 
the  greater  evils  they  prevent ;  though  He  disapprove  not 
the  less  the  desertion  of  Ilis  own  Apostolic  model.  How 
far  this  blessing  may  extend ;  whether, — for  T  am  perfectly 
willing  to  suggest  a  possibility  which,  being  but  a  possibi- 
lity, can  in  no  degree  affect  the  question  of  practical  duiy^ — 
whether  in  cases  of  long-established  order  and  great  per- 
sonal godliness,  it  ever  can,  or  will,  amount  in  the  secret 
estimate  of  God  to  an  ordinarv  sanction  of  the  substituted 


SERM.  XXIV.]         icith  Christian  SymjMihy.  427 

system,  it  would  be  extremely  hazardous  to  presume  arbi- 
trarily to  determine.  It  certainly  seems  not  inherently 
impossible,  nor  from  analogy  wholly  improbable,  that  it 
may ;  and  in  all  such  questions  I  believe  it  our  truest  wis- 
dom, as  it  ought  to  be  our  highest  happiness,  to  glorify  God 
by  hoping  much  from  His  exhaustless  goodness.  When 
our  Lord  was  in  that  ship  in  the  tempest,  which  all  ages 
have  agreed  in  employing  as  a  type  of  His  Church,  St  Mark 
alone  of  the  Evangelists,  as  it  were  incidentally,  observes, — 
"  and  there  were  also  with  Him  other  little  ships."  Nothing 
more  is  said  through  the  narration  of  these  "  Utile  ships." 
Yet  they,  doubtless,  enjoyed  a  share  in  the  blessing  of  calm 
obtained  by  the  ship  that  bore  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  some- 
times thought  that  they  picture  vividly  the  fortunes  of 
those  societies  that  in  these  later  ages  have  moved  in  the 
wake  of  the  ancient  Apostolic  Church;  that  are  with  it 
forced  to  endure  the  storms  of  a  world  impartially  hostile 
to  every  form  of  religious  effort;  and  that  are  not  without 
participating  in  the  blessings  of  the  holy  presence  abiding 
in  that  Church,  as  long  as  in  sincerity  of  heart  they  endea- 
vor to  keep  up  with  the  Master  in  His  course.  Believe  it, 
the  warmest  hopes  and  sympathies  are  here  consistent  with 
the  most  unswerving  sense  of  duty ;  my  purpose  this  day 
is  attained  if  I  have  in  any  degree  helped  you  to  see  how 
to  combine  them.  Your  duty  to  them  and  to  yourselves 
once  inflexiVjly  fixed,  I  would  even  encourage  every  hope 
as  to  possible  variations  of  the  original  scheme  of  divine 
government,  which  may  tend  to  console  your  regret  for 
honest  separation,  or  to  enkindle  your  sympathy  with  vital 
godliness  wherever  the  sovereign  grace  of  heaven  may 
cause  it  to  quicken.  The  law  of  God  I  dare  to  fix;  His 
mercies  I  dare  not  limit:  the  commandment  is  "exceeding 
broad ;"  the  grasp  of  love  is  broader  still.  He  who  before 
now  tolerated  and  sanctified  human  suggestions  in  His  pol- 
ity, may  in  His  own  unrevealed  counsels  have  vouchsafed 


428  Church  Principles  not  inconsistmi       [serm.  xxiy. 

to  do  so  here ;  be  it  our  hope  that  He  has,  our  prayer  that 
He  will,  our  resolution  never  to  presume  that  He  must. 

4.  Such  are  the  principles  and  feelings  with  which,  it 
seems  to  me,  w^e  ought  to  regard  these  pious  worshippers, 
and  the  societies,-  often  most  vakmble  and  godly  communi- 
ties, which  they  have  organized  for  religious  edification. 
Briefly, — I  have  admonished  you  to  discriminate  between 
the  individual  and  the  association ; — to  regard  the  latter  as 
the  instrument^  doubtless,  of  much  real  benefit;  and,  as  such^ 
the  rightful  object  of  prayer,  of  hope,  of  sympathy ;  but  yet 
as  laboring  under  a  perilous  charge  of  needless  secession 
from  the  Church  of  the  apostolic  inheritance,  which  must 
preclude  any  deeper  tie  : — to  look  on  holiness, — clear,  un- 
doubted holiness, — in  the  individual,  as,  under  all  circum- 
stances, an  infallible  mark  of  true  incorporation  into  Christ; 
of  the  membership  of  His  "assembly  and  Church  of  the 
first-born  whose  names  are  written  in  heaven ;"  and  of  a 
virtual  enrolment,  in  the  estimate  of  our  merciful  God, 
among  the  baptized  innocents  of  His  correspondent  earthly 
kingdom. 

VI.  You  must  not  consider  it  strange  that  in  deciding 
the  important  case  of  holy  believers  in  Christ  outside  the 
pale  of  the  Apostolic  Society,  we  are  left  to  the  inference^ — 
though,  I  think,  a  most  certain  inference, — which,  in  assum- 
ing their  connection  with  Christ,  concludes  their  virtual  in- 
sertion into  that  Church  which  by  the  same  mystical  con- 
junction alone  holds  its  real  tenure  of  existence,  and  to 
which  are  "  added  daily  such  as  are  saved."  At  a  period 
antecedent,  if  not  to  all  separation,  at  least  to  all  separation 
of  which  any  godly  man  could  be  found  the  author  or  the 
advocate,  it  was  not  probable  that  the  inspired  writers 
should  have  deliberately  stated  and  resolved  such  a  pro- 
blem. This  is  but  another  form  of  a  principle  which  I 
have  already  more  than  once  insinuated,  that  God's  revela- 
tion is  not  to  be  made  answerable  for  difficulties  never  con- 
templated in  the  simplicity  of  His  original  plan,  and  pro- 


SERM.  XXIV.]  ivith  Christian  Sympathy.  429 

duced  only  by  our  own  subsequent  perversity.  Scripture 
holds  a  bright  lamp  at  the  head  of  a  straight  and  narrow  patli, 
which  shines  clearly  down  the  whole ;  if  we  rush  aside  into 
the  thickets,  we  must  expect  onl}'  broken  reflections  and 
scattered  gleams.  The  Apostles  proceed,  as  all  instructors 
must,  upon  the  supposition  that  the  precepts  they  deliver 
and  the  examples  they  set  shall  be  respected  as  of  perma- 
nent authority ;  they  cannot  be  required  to  provide  for  all 
the  possible  perplexities  of  a  disunion  which  is  itself  de- 
nounced as  sin,  any  more  than  for  the  miserable  results  of 
any  other  guilty  abandonment  of  their  admonitions.  That 
every  devoted  Christian  should  be  a  member  of  the  special 
society  they  had  organized,  that  every  member  of  that  so- 
ciety shoukl  be  a  devoted  Christian,  were  two  conceptions 
which  blended  in  their  contemplation  of  its  office  and  voca- 
tion in  the  world ;  holiness  of  heart  and  willing  submission 
to  the  Apostolate  (be  it  the  Apostolate  of  Paul  the  founder, 
or  of  Timothy  or  Onesimus  the  successors)  were  naturally 
imagined  inseparable ;  and  though  they  nowhere  affirm 
that  these  characteristics  of  a  Christian  cannot  by  any  pos- 
sibility be  severed,  it  would  be  too  much  to  expect  that  they 
should  have  calmly  discussed  it  as  probable,  and  calmly 
undertaken  to  console  the  offenders.  Even  when  (to  refer 
to  one  oft-abused  example)  our  Lord  entertained  the  case 
of  one  who  followed  not  with  Him  and  His  apostles,^  it 
was  but  to  check  uncharitable  conclusions  about  individuals 
by  reference  to  the  positive  gifts  of  the  man,  and  the  posi- 
tive value  of  the  work  he  was  performing  (in  conformity 
to  the  principles  I  have  endeavored  this  day  to  lay  down) ; 
by  no  means  to  suspend,  or  alter,  or  modify,  in  considera- 
tion of  any  such  individual  instance  of  His  grace,  the 
peculiar  design  of  the  Church  and  Mission  He  was  con- 
stituting. I  say,  then,  the  language  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment being  framed  for  that  perfect  ideal  of  the  Church,  in 

»  Mark  ix.  38.     Luke  ix.  49. 


430  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent       [SERM.  XXIV. 

whicli  the  two  conceptions  of  membership, — that  drawn 
from  adhesion  to  Apostolic  government,  and  that  drawn 
from  cordial  belief  in  the  Gospel, — exactly  coincide,  it  is 
plainly  possible  that  that  volame  should  contain  no  distinct 
provision  for  the  peculiar  difficulties  that  subsequently 
arose  from  those  human  perturbations  of  the  original 
scheme  by  which  the  designed  coincidence  was  lost.  Ob- 
vious reasons  will,  indeed,  occur  why  it  would  have  been 
injurious  that  it  should  contain  any  express  anticipation  of 
the  case  that  arose  at  the  period  of  the  Continental  Eefor- 
mation ;  its  determination  of  the  question,  if  lenient,  being 
likely  to  encourage  the  tendency  to  innovation;  if  rigorous 
and  absolute,  to  preclude  the  exercise  of  divine  mercy  and 
of  charitable  hope.  And  though  we  could  conjecture  no 
reason  at  all  for  an  omission,  of  which  advantage  has  been 
almost  equally  taken  by  both  parties  in  this  argument,  it 
certainly  cannot  be  considered  at  all  more  surprising  than 
the  similar  omission  of  distinct  instruction  as  to  other  sub- 
sequent difficulties  which  to  the  prophetic  spirit  might  have 
been  equally  known ;  for  instance,  as  to  the  legitimacy  or 
illegitimacy  of  any  form  of  Church  monarchy,  such  as  arose 
in  the  middle  ages ;  or  as  to  that  vast  class  of  questions 
that  have  still  more  largely  occupied  and  perplexed  the 
minds  of  statesmen  and  divines  from  the  fourth  to  the 
present  century, — the  true  principles  and  conditions  of  the 
union  of  the  Church  with  the  civil  power.  Indeed  it  is  at 
once  evident  that  any  argument  founded  upon  the  allega- 
tion of  this  omission  applies  indefinitely  to  a  multitude  of 
questions  not  more  precisely  resolved ;  that  to  all  the 
answer  is  equally  applicable,  that  the  sacred  writers  must 
stop  someivhere,  if  their  writings  were  to  be  fitted  for 
general  distribution;  and  that,  in  the  instance  before  us, 
having,  as  they  planted  their  Churches,  set  the  example  of 
the  transmission  of  the  Apostolate,  their  language  was 
naturally  framed  on  the  supposition  of  its  perpetuation ; 
that,  therefore,  habitually  indentifying  the   aggregate   of 


SEBM.  XXIV.]         with  Christian  SymiJathy.  431 

those  whose  hearts  were  "purified  by  faith"  with  the 
aggregate  of  those  who  joyfully  accepted  the  apostolic 
pastorship,  they  found  no  occasion  for  contemplating  any 
such  unhappy  possibility  as  the  separation  of  these  charac- 
teristics of  the  earthly  body  of  Christ.  And  hence,  it 
would  seem,  we  need  expect  in  Holy  Writ  the  express  dis- 
cussion of  this  contingency,  however  interesting  it  may 
have  become  to  us,  no  more  than  we  should  anticipate  in  a 
book  of  practical  physiology  a  special  determination  of  the 
speculative  problem,  whether  a  human  spirit  separated 
from  its  bodily  organization  can  still  claim  the  title  of  a 
man.  Like  tliis  question,  the  other  must  be  decided,  less 
from  any  distinct  adjudication  of  the  case  in  the  authorities, 
than  from  a  patient  consideration  of  the  relative  importaiwe 
of  the  qualification  deficient  and  the  qualification  possessed. 
And  when  the  matter  is  brought  to  this  issue  ; — revolving 
the  specific  character  of  the  entire  dispensation  and  doc- 
trine of  Jesus  Christ ;  His  peculiar  regard  to  the  inward 
state  of  men;  His  perpetual  appeal  to  tempers,  motives, 
dispositions ;  His  distinct  avowals  of  the  spiritual  nature 
of  the  kingdom  He  came  to  erect, — a  kingdom  in  the  heart 
and  will ;  and  similar  topics,  which,  I  need  not  say,  form 
the  substance  and  the  characteristic  teaching  of  the  whole 
four  Gospels; — considering  yet  further  the  brief  but  sig- 
nificant notices  which  are  given  us  of  the  nature  and  object 
of  the  Church ;  the  manner  in  which,  while  fixed  in  its 
earthly  development,  like  the  growth  of  all  other  organic 
bodies,  to  one  definite  and  ever-recurring  type,  it  is  every- 
where intimated  that  the  quickening  power  of  the  organism, 
the  true  eternal  ground  of  its  very  being,  consists  in  a 
certain  inconceivable  union  with  Him  who  is  the  heavenly 
principle  of  regenerate  life;  and  that  this  union,  or  this 
indwelling,  alone  constitutes  its  dignity,  its  object,  and  its 
value ;  creating,  of  course,  in  all  who  really  share  it,  under 
whatever  circumstances,  the  very  blessedness  the  Church, 
through  its  teaching  and  its  sacramental  functions,  is  meant 


432  Church  Principles  not  inconsistent       [serm.  xxiv. 

to  witness  and  administer ;  inasmuch,  as  thougli  the  spirit 
be  the  life  of  the  body,  the  body  must  never  be  deemed 
competent  to  confine  a  Spirit  infinitely  vaster  and  mightier 
than  itself, — a  Spirit  in  which  it  lives  no  less  truly  than 
that  Spirit  in  it ; — duly  estimating  these  things,  I  say  it 
seems  impossible  to  avoid  the  conviction,  that  the  internal 
state  is  that  for  which  the  external  subordinately  exists ; 
that  its  presence  or  its  absence  must  in  the  divine  estimate 
mainly  denominate  the  individual ;  and  that  when  He,  "of 
whose  fulness  we  have  all  received,  and  grace  for  grace," 
is  pleased  to  bestow,  through  whatever  supplementary 
means,  His  sanctifying  influences,  it  must  be, — and  equally 
in  all  cases  can  only  be, — because  He  has  adopted  the 
happy  recipient  of  them  into  union  with  Himself,  and, 
therefore,  into  the  mystical  association  of  His  elect  people, 
and  therefore  virtually,  though  to  us  invisibly,  into  that 
association  which  is  designed  as  its  earthly  form  and  visible 
manifestation.  And  thus  is  wrought  out  by  the  uniting 
Spirit, — secretly,  alas !  to  us,  because  by  our  guilty  dissen- 
sions we  would  have  it  so, — that  profound  union  between 
all  godly  hearts,  after  which  good  men  have  ever  sighed, 
but  which  so  many  among  them  have  been  weakly  tempted 
to  pursue  by  the  gradual  surrender  of  every  definite  con- 
viction in  religion : — as  if  we  had  a  right  to  give  what  is 
not  our  own,  to  purchase  the  luxury  of  a  quiet  life  with 
the  sacrifice  of  one  shred  of  that  precious  deposit  of  truth 
which  is  committed  to  our  keeping !  Thus,  I  say,  when  in 
your  disagreeing  brother  you  see  the  work  of  faith  made 
perfect  in  love,  and  humility  triumphant  in  the  self-deny- 
ing life  of  the  cross,  you  are  enabled  to  recognize  that  of  a 
truth  the  marks  of  the  Lord  Jesus  are  on  him,  the  true 
infallible  signature  of  the  Holy  Ghost  sealing  unto  the  day 
of  redemption ;  and  yet,  while  you  adore  the  mercy  that 
makes  him  what  he  is  both  in  himself  and  as  the  instru- 
ment of  benefit  to  others,  to  feel  also  that  upon  you  is 
imposed  the  painful  obligation  to  withstand  his  error,  to 


SERM.  XXIV.]         tciih  Chrutian  Sympathy.  433 

refuse  the  visible  fellowslilp  of  his  schism,  to  labor  by  all 
Christian  means  to  persuade  him  and  his  to  remove  an 
obstacle  that  retards  the  glorious  purpose  of  God,  that  in 
the  day  when  He  is  "King  over  all  the  earth,"  there  should 
be  "one  Lord,  and  His  name  one:"^ — a  purpose  wliich 
shall  be  fully  realized,  only  when, — in  despite  of  all  the 
temporary  oppositions  of  men,  in  despite  of  the  far  more 
grievous  obstacle  of  the  errors,  infirmities,  relaxations,  and 
corruptions,  that  through  its  various  divisions  debase  His 
own  Church, — He  shall  yet  bind,  in  and  through  that 
Church,  all  the  tribes  of  men  into  one  spiritual  fellowship, 
that  ''  holy  Jerusalem"  yet  to  come,  of  which  the  prophetic 
Spirit  intimates  that  even  in  that  far  distant  time  every 
stone  of  its  "  walls,"  independent  of  any  exterior  support, 
shall  be  seen,  through  all  their  descending  courses,  layer 
under  layer,  to  rest  at  last  upon  their  foundations  alone, 
and  "  in  whose  foundations," — He  Himself  the  corner-stone, 
— "  are  the  names  of  the  twelve  Apostles  of  the  Lamb."* 

If,  my  reverend  brethren,  you  have  accompanied  me 
through  the  course  of  these  considerations,  you  will,  I 
trust,  have  found  them  contribute  towards  fixing,  on  en- 
larged principles,  the  ground  which,  in  these  troubled 
times  of  the  Church,  you  can  securely  occupy.  You  will 
have  seen  how  the  duly  commissioned  minister  of  Christ 
may  assert  the  special  felicities  of  his  position,  and  yet 
consistently  acknowledge  the  fellowship  of  a  true  internal 
bond  with  such  individuals  as,  holding  the  fundamental 
doctrines  of  the  Gospel,  manifest  the  possession  of  the 
Spirit  by  "the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,"  and  can  justly  plead 
the  authoritative  warrant  that  "  by  their  fruits"  they 
should  be  "known;"  you  will  have  been  furnished  with 
the  outlines  (the  occasion  admits  no  more)  of  a  theory, 
which,  instead  of  vaguely  evading  notorious  difficulties, 
provides  for  all  the  facts  of  the  case  as  they  are  found  in 

'  Zech.  xiv.  9.  «  Rev.  xxi.  14. 

37 


434  Church  Prlncixjles  not  inconsistent       [SEEM.  XXIV. 

tlie  past  history  and  present  circumstances  of  tlae  whole 
body  of  Christian  believers;  which,  expanding  with  the 
expanding  mercy  of  God,  acknowledges  His  undoubted 
agency  wherever  there  is  righteousness  and  true  holiness, 
and  yet  makes  the  very  immensity  of  that  mercy  an 
additional  argument  for  the  obligation  of  adhering  with 
scrupulous  fidelity  to  that  sole  form  of  Church  polity  and 
ministerial  transmission  which  they  who  best  knew  "  the 
mind  of  Christ"  have  for  ever  consecrated  by  their  sanc- 
tion. 

Amid  all  the  riches  of  divine  mercy,  then,  and  all  the 
varied  triumphs  of  the  cross  around  us,  our  position  is  stiil, 
in  one  remarkable  respect,  peculiar  and  alone.  I  have 
sacrificed  this  day  the  easier  and  more  genial  task  of  prac- 
tical exhortation  for  the  labor,  more  necessary  as  things 
now  stand,  of  clearing  a  dark  and  contested  question.  But 
for  a  moment  yet,  before  I  leave  you  to  a  more  authorita- 
tive expositor  of  your  duties,  let  me  beseech  you,  brethren, 
to  remember  that  if  your  place  is  thus  prominent  in  the 
eye  of  heaven,  your  responsibilities  are  proportionably 
awful.  If  I  magnify  your  office,  it  is  that  I  may  magnify 
your  obligations!  If  no  men  speak  from  heaven  so  di- 
rectly as  we,  from  no  men  does  heaven  expect  so  faithful 
a  message.  It  may  be  indolence  and  cowardice  in  others 
to  withdraw  from  the  work ;  it  is  high  treason  against  the 
direct  legation  of  God,  in  us.  Men  have  dared  to  speak 
slightingly  of  this  conception  of  a  transmitted  commission  ; 
I  appeal  from  hearts  embittered  by  controversial  disputings 
to  every  unpreju-diced  mind,  when  I  ask,  is  there  not,  after 
all,  something  unutterably  awful  in  the  thought  of  a 
mission  inherited  thus  directly  from  the  Incarnate  God  ? 
When,  instead  of  the  vague  inference  that  finds  the  proof 
of  a  commission  in  the  utility  of  the  office  or  the  necessity 
of  the  time,  the  minister,  however  humble,  can  actually 
trace  along  the  page  of  history  the  unbroken  succession 
that  ends  in  the  mighty  Twelve  and  their  mightier  Master; 


SERM.  XXIV.]         icilh  Christian  Si/mpalhij.  435 

when  the  voice  tliat  bade  liim  tend  the  flock  of  Christ  is 
felt  to  be  the  echo, — after  many  a  reflection,  indeed,  yet 
still  the  very  eclio, — of  the  voice  which  spake  on  the 
evening  of  the  Resurrection, — "Keceive  ye  the  Holy 
Ghost," — and  that,  again,  itself  an  echo  from  the  central 
recesses  of  tlie  Father's  own  eternity ;  when,  thus,  by  no 
ideal  connection,  however  true  to  the  meditative  reason, 
but  by  plain  and  tangible  links,  we  see  ourselves  bound  to 
the  living  and  suffering  Christ, — I  ask  you,  does  it  not  give 
an  impression  of  reality,  of  awful  and  awakening  reality, 
to  our  whole  office  ?  Does  it  not  seem  to  bring  Christ 
fearfull}^  ??e«r  us  ?  Must  not  a  man  thus  empowered,  feel 
himself  sent  with  a  force  and  directness  notliing  else  can 
supply,  charged  with  a  work  from  which  he  dare  not  with- 
draw, and  "straitened  till  it  be  accomplished?" 

Such  are  my  own  feelings  of  the  practical  value  of  this 
great  truth ;  and  you  will  remember  that  these  impressions 
are  independent  of  all  fair  controversy ;  for  they  turn  not 
even  on  the  necessity  of  the  succession,  but  on  the  his- 
torical fact  that  it  exists.  But  if  you  still  hesitate  to 
assume  this  ground,  a  large  field  is  open,  where  we  can,  not 
uuprolitably,  meet.  Whatever  your  conception  of  the 
nature  of  your  commission,  you  acknowledge  at  least  that 
a  commission  you  have  received;  Christ  has  made  over  to 
each  of  us  a  special  portion  of  His  vineyard,  to  cultivate 
for  immortality.  For  that  definite  allotment,  and  for  every 
soul  therein,  we  shall  have  to  answer  in  the  day  of  wrath. 
Those  are  awful  words  of  the  prophet :  "  Where  is  the  flock 
that  was  given  thee,  thy  beautiful  flock?  What  wilt  thou 
say  when  He  shall  visit  upon  thee?""*  Hundreds,  yea, 
thousands,  have  passed  through  the  hands  of  some  of  us ; 
what  report  of  our  ministry  have  they  brought  into  the 
world  of  spirits?  Oh,  brethren!  of  a  truth  they  are  no 
slight  matters,  these  souls  of  men  with  which  we  have  to 

>  Jer.  xiii.  20,  21. 


436  Letter  hy  Professor  Butler 

deal !  Eternal  destinies  are  suspended  on  our  liourl}'  work; 
every  forgetful  day  is  a  robbery  of  Him  whose  chief  reward 
for  all  "  the  travail  of  His  soul"  is  in  the  multitude  that  we 
are  to  train  for  Him  to  glory.  Shall  we  disappoint  Him, 
and,  as  far  as  in  us  lies,  neutralize  the  redeeming  work  of 
the  cross?  Called  to  be  the  stewards  of  His  household, 
shall  we  lay  waste  his  inheritance ;  or,  what  is  as  criminal, 
suffer  it  to  lie  fallow  and  unproductive?  He  has  promised 
us  His  unfailing  help  in  prosecuting  the  work  he  began ; 
He  has  promised  us  a  glory  eminent  above  others  even  in 
a  world  where  all  is  glory; — "rulers  over  many  cities," 
"the  joy  of  our  Lord,"  "the  brightness  of  the  stars  for 
ever  and  ever."  May  we  daily  see  before  us  the  crown, 
and  willingly  bear  the  cross  we  call  upon  others  to  carry  I 
May  we  keep  before  our  thoughts  that  great  and  final  day 
of  visitation,  more  awful  far  than  all  these  its  earthly 
images;  "when  the  Chief  Shepherd  shall  appear,"  "even 
the  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of  our  souls,"  to  inspect  the 
accounts  of  our  stewardship,  to  scrutinize  our  fidelit}^,  to 
require  the  blood  of  the  unwarned  sinner  at  the  hand  of 
the  faithless  watchman,  to  recompense  with  rest  everlasting 
the  humble  and  laborious  minister  of  truth  and  peace ! 

The  following  Letter,  in  corroboration  of  the  arguments 
of  the  foregoing  Sermon,  was  communicated  to  the  Irish 
Ecclesiastical  Journal  (February,  1843),  in  reply  to  a  critique 
published  in  the  preceding  number  of  that  periodical,  and 
signed  "A  Requisitionist." 

Sir, — I  shall  probably  be  expected  to  transmit  to  you  some  reply  to 
the  observations  contained  in  your  last  number,  on  a  Visitation  Sermon 
of  mine,  which  was  delivered  some  time  since  in  Derry,  and  which  was 
intended  to  afford  some  suggestions  as  to  the  ground  to  be  adopted  by 
our  divines  in  their  controversies  with  the  non-episcopal  communities. 
I  do  so  with  all  the  willingness  due  to  a  critique  characterized  by  such 
ability,  temj^erateness,  and  candor,  as  that  of  your  correspondent ;  and 
(I  trust  I  may,  without  affectation,  say)  with  an  anxious  desire  that  in 
whatever  degree  his  objections  are  well  founded  they  may  carry  their 


on  the  foregoing  Sermon,  437 

full  weight  with  the  public,  whether  to  modify, — or,  if  it  must  be  i50, — 
to  dismiss  from  attention  altogetlier,  my  statements  and  speculations. 

One  or  two  observations  relative  to  the  spirit  in  wliich  the  discourse 
was  conceived,  it  may  be  well  to  preraiso. 

Your  correspondent  seems  to  imagine  the  conclusions  of  my  discourse 
to  be  (in  contrast  to  his  own),  consolatory  to  dissenters,  and  such  as  will 
recommend  themselves  to  those  among  ourselves  who  look  kindly  on 
dissent.  I  contess  I  hardly  ventured  to  anticipate  any  such  result ;  and 
the  event  has  corroborated  my  expectations.  By  both  these  parties,  as 
far' as  I  can  judge  from  their  literary  organs,  it  has  been  received  with 
distaste  ;  as  a  view  which,  under  charitable  professions,  puts  them  in  a 
far  more  disadvantageous  position,  by  removing,  so  far  as  it  is  admitted, 
the  force  of  the  one  plausible  and  impressive  plea  which  (esi^ecially  witli 
pious  men  within  our  own  Church)  had  constantly  appeared  to  supix)rt 
their  case,  and  had  perpetually  been  urged  in  abatement  of  the  claims  of 
their  adversaries.  In  truth  the  Sermon  was  written  with  a  studied 
abstraction  from  the  predilections  and  opinions  of  all  parties  ;  but  I  have 
been  peculiarly  misconceived,  if  it  be  regarded  as  an  apology  for  Dissent, 
or  an  alleviation  of  its  culpability.  Designed  to  include  under  a  com- 
mon principle  two  classes  of  facts  imagined  by  thousands  among  us  to  be 
wholly  inconsistent,  it,  of  course,  required  equal  and  impartial  mention 
to  be  made  of  both;  as  is  done  in  the  title,  and  still  more  distinctly 
through  the  body,  of  the  discourse  ;  but  my  Requisitionist  may  be  assured 
that  the  object  of  the  Sermon  was  far  less  to  "claim  sympathy  for  dis- 
senters" by  affirming  the  propriety  of  our  cordial  recognition  of  instances 
of  genuine  holiness  outside  the  Church,  than  to  evince  that,  granting, 
with  the  great  mass  of  both  our  divines  and  our  laity,  such  recognition, 
and  the  measure  of  sympathy  it  demands,  to  be  in  candor  unavoidable, 
the  maintenance  of  the  highest  form  of  Church  principles  is  therewith 
strictly  consistent. 

The  supposition  that  my  discourse  was  intended  rather  in  excuse  for 
dissent  than  in  vindication  of  these  principles,  seems  to  have  been  forti- 
fied in  the  mind  of  your  correspondent  by  a  misconception  which  I  hasten 
to  correct.  When  I  spoke  of  "  practically  sympathizing"  with  non-epis- 
copal Christians,  I  intended  the  phrase  to  imjwrt, — not  ^'active  co-opera- 
tion," of  which  I  have  clearly  denied  the  lawfulness  (for  example  in  p. 
433)  ;  but,  that  our  internal  sympathy  with  the  holiness  and  the  benevo- 
lence of  such  persons  was  to  be  a  practical  consequence  upon  the  theo- 
retical views  enforced  ;  the  cultivation  of  right  feelings  being  itself  emi- 
nently a  practical  matter.  The  double  significancy  of  the  word  "  prac- 
tical"— which  is  sometimes  limited  to  outward  activity,  and  sometimes, 
as  in  this  case,  employed  in  its  wider  philosophical  sense  to  comprehend 
the  moral  and  emotional  function  in  general,  in  contradistinction  to  the 
purely  speculative — escaped  my  recollection  until  your  correspondent's 

37-^ 


438  Letter  hy  Professor  Butler 

misunderstanding  of  my  meaning  recalled  the  ambiguity. •  As  to  the 
amount  of  this  sympathy  with  the  non-episcopal  Christian  of  unques- 
tioned godliness— how  far  it  is  our  duty  to  cherish,  how  far  to  guard  and 
limit  it— I  thought  I  had  sufficiently  intimated  in  the  discourse.  Sup- 
posing the  holiness  to  be  such  as  must  be  deemed  to  infer  the  special 
grace  of  Christ,  I  believe  that,  amid  all  the  embarrassing  circumstances 
of  the  case,  an  inward  Christian  affection  to  the  individual  thus  owned 
by  our  gracious  Master  becomes  a  duty ;  nor  less — though  I  need  not  say 
how  guardedly  it  must  be  felt  or  expressed — an  approbation  of  such  of 
his  acts  or  projects  of  pure  benevolence  as  in  nowise  involve  the  spread 
of  his  peculiarities  :  both  of  which  "practical"  rules  I  believe  to  be  per- 
fectly consistent  with  the  conviction  of  his  error,  and  with  that  steady 
refusal  of  active  religious  co-operation  which  either  grows  directly  out  of 
that  conviction,  or  is  necessary  in  order  to  make  that  conviction  palpable 
to  all  around  us. 

Another  point,  however,  is  of  greater  importance  than  misunderstand- 
ings of  this  kind,  which  can  only,  or  chiefly,  concern  the  opinions  of  the 
author ;  it  relates  to  the  legitimacy  of  the  entire  method  of  discussion 
adopted  in  the  sermon.  It  seems  to  be  urged,  that  there  is  such  a  radical 
distinction  between  the  mode  of  investigating  truth  in  physical  science 
and  in  revealed  religion,  that  whereas  the  alleged  facts  of  experience  are 
alone  to  found,  and  alter,  and  modify,  our  theories  in  the  one,  they  must 
be  permitted  little  or  no  influence  in  the  other,  beyond  that  of  simple 
confirmation  ;  that  is,  that  wherever  subsequent  historical  phenomena 
do  not  seem  to  coincide  in  every  the  minutest  respect  with  our  antece- 
dent interpretation  of  Revelation,  they  must  at  once  be  surrendered  as 
doubtful,  or  delusive,  or  irrelevant.  This  I  understand  to  be  the  sub- 
stance of  what  your  correspondent  has  stated  in  the  latter  part  /Of  his  ■ 
letter  ;  and  to  tliis  opinion,  which  certainly  ivould  be  fatal  to  all  reason- 
ing of  the  kind  I  have  employed,  I  cannot  consent.  Indeed  I  do  not 
imagine  that  in  practice  any  reflective  theologian  ever  yet  consented  to 
such  a  limitation.  Truth,  in  whatever  department,  need  never  be  afraid 
of  facts,  which  are  themselves  truth ;  and  which  are  to  be  tested  by  much 
the  same  rules,  and  ascribed  much  the  same  kind  of  value,  in  every 
region  of  human  knowledge :  it  being,  of  course,  understood,  that  such 
applications  of  experience  are  never  to  be  contemplated  as  aflecting  (which 
it  would  be  preposterous  to  imagine)  the  great  lines  of  the  Faith ;  but  as 
usefully  aidiiKj  our  imperfect  conceptions  of  the  laws  of  divine  agency — 

'  There  is  another  expression  -vrliich  the  Requisitionist  has  construed  into  a  strange 
inconsistency.  "The  independency  of  divine  grace  on  its  necessary  instrumentality" 
meant  merely  tlie  independency  of  grace  on  tlie  Churcli  System,  as  a  condition  absolutely 
and  inherently  necessary  (which,  I  have  said,  we  might  grant,  without  any  real  con- 
cession to  those  who  oppose  thai  sj'-stcm)  ;  not,  as  he  seems  to  interpret  me,  that  the 
independency  and  the  necessity  were  to  be  co-existent  in  the  same  case,  at  the  same 
moment. 


on  the  foregoing  Sermon.  439 

as  illustrating  by  new  proofs  and  examples  the  true  nature  of  the  dealings 
of  God  with  man ;  and  often,  doubtless,  as  correcting  by  an  appeal  to 
observation  (conducted,  I  need  not  say,  with  all  possible  caution)  men's 
hasty  anticipations  of  the  principles  of  the  divine  government.  For, 
assuredly,  all  portions  of  the  dispensations  of  God  in  the  history,  both  of 
the  Church  and  of  the  separate  religious  bodies,  that  at  various  times 
have  accompanied  her  course,  are  not  only  reducible  to  definite  laws  of 
providential  government,  but  reducible  finally  to  those  very  laws  (or  to 
laws  consistent  with  those  very  laws)  which  are  in  a  large  and  general 
way  propounded  in  Holy  Scripture.  And  if  so,  both  may  be  expected  to 
reflect  reciprocal  illumination.  The  real  difference  between  this  kind  of 
reasoning  and  ordinary  physical  science  is  simply,  that  in  this  all  the 
greater  features  of  the  divine  laws  are  happily  fixed  for  us  unchangeably 
by  revelation ;  but  this  blessed  certainty  need  not  make  us  doubt  that  a 
survey  of  subsequent  facts  may  not  only  be  directed  to  the  business  of 
classifying  these  facts  under  our  view  of  those  laws,  but  also  justifiably 
tend  to  placing  those  laws  (themselves  in  substance  unchanged)  in  new 
aspects,  positions,  and  mutual  relations.  One  might,  perhaps,  illustrate 
such  a  process  by  the  effect  of  the  establishment  of  the  minor  conse- 
quences of  the  law  of  gravitation  upon  men's  views  of  that  law  itself. 
Researches  were  prosecuted  by  men  having  unbounded  faith  in  the  uni- 
versality of  the  law ;  yet  even  they  acknowledged  that  the  law  itself 
assumed  new  aspects  and  importance  in  the  light  cast  upon  it  by  the 
very  facts  which  it  alone  elucidated.  Or  still  better,  to  refer  to  that 
Newton  of  the  moral  world,  who  attempted  and  achieved  in  his  own  field 
the  same  work  of  applying  earthly  observation  to  illustrate  and  harmo- 
nize celestial  laws.  Who  can  question  that  Bishop  Butler,  in  tracing  the 
analogies  of  ordinary  experience  to  revealed  laws  of  divine  agency,  has 
not  merely  vindicated  these  laws,  but  actually  given  us,  in  many  in- 
stances, additional  views,  altogether  new  and  unforeseen,  of  their  very 
nature;  and  this  sometimes  wholly  from  the  unexpected  force  of  the 
parallel  adduced  from  experience  ?  Indeed,  not  to  speak  of  speculations 
like  these — so  irresistible  is  the  process  itself,  that  it  may  be  doubted 
whether,  from  the  very  nature  of  the  human  mind,  there  can  exist  the 
individual  who  is  not  forced  to  interpret  all  those  expressions  of  Scripture 
that  lie  beyond  pure  historical  detail,  more  or  less  by  his  own  measure 
of  experience ;  the  very  agency  of  divine  grace  being  usually  to  bestow 
that  blessed  experience  by  which  he  can,  however  slowly,  rise  to  appre- 
hend them. 

I  have  spoken  of  this  employment  of  experience,  as  helping  to  clear 
our  conceptions  of  the  working  of  those  general  laws  of  divine  providence 
and  (/race,  which  are  broadly  set  forth  in  Scripture;  because  it  is  the 
point  which  most  nearly  concerns  our  immediate  question,  namely,  the 
mode  in  which  we  may  best  represent  to  ourselves,  and  harmonize  with 


440  Letter  hy  Professor  Butler 

other  truths,  tlie  operations  of  graqe  bejond  tlie  Apostolic  constitution. 
But  the  case  becomes,  perhaps,  more  evident,  when  we  think  of  the  num- 
berless instances  in  which  the  very  interpretation  of  scriptural  texts  has 
been  modified,  or  even  reversed,  by  actual  experience.  The  promises 
(for  example)  to  the  Jewish  Church  miijlit  have  meant  a  gift  of  uncon- 
ditional infallibility ;  subsequent  experience  has  determined  the  true 
interpretation  by  the  errors  and  fall  of  that  hierarchy.  The  promises  to 
the  Christian  Church  have  been,  by  an  immense  body  within  it,  thought 
to  import  the  same  ;  a  far  simpler  and  more  conclusive  answer  than  any 
critical  examination  of  texts,  is  to  point  to  the  miserable  failures  which 
have  historically  demonstrated  that  no  such  provision  was  really  in  the 
purposes  of  Divine  Providence,  or  therefore  could  have  been  within  the 
scope  of  the  scriptural  expressions  adduced.  The  various  theories  of 
prophecy  similarly  confuted ;  the  early  expectation  of  the  immediate 
advent  of  Christ  supposed  to  be  irrefragably  deducible  from  scriptural 
phraseology ;  the  anticipation  of  a  permanent  gift  of  miracles  by  vast 
numbers  still  inferred  from  our  Lord's  expressions  ;  and  the  like — are  all 
-instances,  in  which  the  designs  of  God  and  those  words  of  Scripture  in 
which  they  were  embodied,  have  had  their  real  import  illustrated  almost 
solely  by  the  evidence  of  experience.  Indeed,  I  suppose  every  man  will 
admit,  that  the  whole  course  of  the  world  has  been,  in  many  respects, 
different  from  what  a  reader  of  the  New  Testament  might  naturally  at 
first  sight  have  anticipated  ;  and  that  it  is  just  this  superficial  difierence 
which  makes  the  profound  real  harmony  between  the  foreshadowings  of 
revelation,  and  the  subsequent  history  of  man,  so  far  as  we  can  establish 
it,  so  peculiarly  imj^ressive  an  evidence  of  the  Divine  Providence  that 
equally  superintended  both. 

Pursued,  then,  within  due  limits  and  with  proper  caution,  I  cannot 
hut  believe  that  this  kind  of  comparison  between  the  testimony  of  sub- 
sequent experience,  and  the  general  laws  of  divine  mercy  announced  in 
the  Scriptures,  is  not  only  legitimate  but  valuable  ;  not  only  valuable  but 
in  a  great  degree  unavoidable  by  any  reflective  student  of  the  word  and 
works  of  God.  And  I  think  the  instance  before  us  (the  relation  of  divine 
grace  to  the  mere  acceptance  of  sacred  truth  on  the  one  hand,  and  to  the 
special  gifts  of  the  Church  on  the  other),  forms  a  good  example  of  the 
kind  of  modifying  effect  upon  our  views  which  it  may  fairly  exercise ; 
not  disturbing  any  truth,  but  helping  us  to  balance  and  arrange  them 
all ;  and  often,  where  there  are  two  or  three  ways  of  conceiving  the  same 
law,  forming  a  sort  of  experimentum  crucis  to  determine  between  them. 

But,  of  course,  all  this  comparison  of  Scripture  and  experience  must 
suppose  two  conditions  :  the  realiti/  of  the  facts  alleged,  and  the  admissi- 
hiliti)^  on  the  ordinary  rules  of  scriptural  inquiry,  of  that  law  or  mode  of 
divine  agency  which  is  supposed  to  embrace  them. 

I  confess  I  saw  with  some  surprise,  the  refusal  of  your  correspondent 


on  the  foregoing  Sermon.  411 

to  admit  the  former  of  these  conditions ;  the  reality  of  the  alleged  in- 
stances of  genuine  Christian  piety  in  non-episcopal  bodies.  I  am  wholly 
at  a  loss  to  conceive  on  what  grounds  such  hesitation  can  he  entertained, 
which  would  not  involve  in  skei)ticism,  that  whole  principle  of  inferring 
inward  holiness  from  outward  indications,  which  our  Lord  has  so  dis- 
tinctly sanctioned  in  His  memorable  maxim  ;  and  on  which,  indeed,  some 
of  the  most  important  portions  of  the  very  evidences  of  Christianity 
must  be  considered  to  rest.  The  admitted  possibility  of  mistake  here 
aflfects  the  question  no  more  than  it  affects  any  other  question  of  facts ; 
neither  are  we  discussing  the  comparative  degree  of  sanctity,  but  the  pos- 
session at  all  of  such  a  measure  as  is  the  special  fruit  of  the  Gospel. 
But  the  Requisitionist  seems  unconsciously  to  narrow  the  field  of  obser- 
vation. He  will  remember  that  we  are  concerned,  not  alone  with  the 
English  schismatic,  whose  case  is  probably  the  most  inexcusable  in  the 
world,  and  whose  attainments  in  holiness  may  be  expected  proportion- 
ably  to  suifer ;  but  with  vast  bodies  of  Christians  on  the  Continent  and 
elsewhere,  whose  position  is  now  the  quiet  inheritance  of  centuries  ; 
whose  position  was,  in  some  instances,  all  but  forced  on  their  forefathers, 
by  the  corruptions  of  the  Church  Catholic  itself;  and  who,  having  no 
pure  episcopal  Church  within  their  reach,  are  never  led  to  suspect  even 
the  possibility  of  their  ecclesiastical  organization  being  other  than  con- 
formable to  the  design  of  God.'  That  such  bodies  are  likely  to  lose 
important  benefits,  both  doctrinal  and  practical  (not  to  speak  of  more 
mysterious  gifts),  in  losing  the  apostolic  government,  I  have  already 
observed,  in  the  papers  to  which  your  correspondent  refers ;  that  they 
nevertheless  possess,  and  have  from  the  beginning  possessed,  conspicuous 
examples  of  such  sanctity  as  only  the  Gospel  and  grace  of  Christ  could 
produce  ;  the  sanctity  arising  (in  the  same  way  as  among  ourselves) 
directly  from  the  influence  of  the  truths  believed — I  can  doubt  only  when 
I  have  learned  to  doubt  the  possibility  of  a»^  inference  of  piety  from 
practice,  or,  indeed,  the  legitimacy  of  deducing  the  nature  of  any  mental 
state  whatever  from  its  external  indications.  These  are  points  upon 
which  every  man  must'  decide  for  himself,  according  as  the  evidence 
strikes  him ;  and  upon  which  detailed  discussion  would  be  endless. 
But  I  apprehend  that  the  Requisitionist  will  find  that  the  solution  with 
which  he  dismisses  the  difliculty,  by  refusing  to  admit  the  fact,  will  sa- 
tisfy very  few  earnest  inquirers.     I  find  no  such  hesitation  in  that  line 

*  It  is  for  this  reason  that  we  must  be  cautious  how  we  apply  the  rigorous  maxims  of 
the  early  Church  to  the  present  state  of  the  Christian  world.  Instances  of  holiness 
could  seldom  or  never  be  expected  beyond  the  verge  of  the  Catholic  Church,  at  a  period 
when,  no  pretext  existing  for  separation,  to  be  a  scliisniatic  was  almost  inevitably  to  be 
vain,  arrogant,  and  impious;  which,  of  course,  would  preclude  the  sanctifying  result. 
No  candid  man  can  dream  of  comparing  this  with  the  state  of  things  at  the  Keforma- 
tion. 


442  Letter  hj  Professor  Butler 

of  Englisli  divines  of  wliicli  he  lias  spoken  ;  and  to  whom  he  may  be 
quite  assured  I  did  not  allude  when  I  spoke  of  those  whose  theories, 
rigidly  understood,  would  place  the  pious  Congregatioualist  on  a  level 
with  the  Heathen. 

To  me,  and  to  all  those  beside  me,  who  do  admit  the  reality  of  un- 
questionable holiness,  and  holiness  specifically  Christian,  existing  be- 
yond the  range  of  the  apostolic  succession  of  the  ministry,  it  becomes 
necessary  to  reflect  how  far  this  remarkable  fact  is  provided  for  in  our 
theological  systems.  This  brings  me  to  the  other  condition  of  which  I 
have  spoken — the  right  conception,  namely,  of  the  scriptural  intimations 
of  holiness  as  connected  both  with  divine  knowledge  and  with  the  Church 
life.  To  the  Requisltionist  all  further  discussion  must,  of  course,  be 
considered  as  sx)eculation  raised  on  an  imaginary  hypothesis ;  but  even  to 
him  it  may  be  matter  of  curiosity  to  observe,  whether  the  views  I  have 
suggested  possess  the  consistency  which  forms  the  proj)er  truth  of  hypo- 
thetical reasoning. 

The  general  principles,  then,  which  I  conceive  to  be  applicable  to  this 
double  fact — viz  :  the  transmission  from  Scripture  and  antiquity  of  the 
claims  of  a  certain  definite  successive  Society  to  be  the  Church  of  Christ — 
and  the  observed  existence  of  much  of  that  holiness  beyond  it,  which  it 
is  the  promise  of  the  Church  to  possess,  her  office  to  exhibit  and  preserve 
— are  such  as  these  : — 

1.  That  there  may  be  coexistent  laws  of  divine  grace,  each  of  which, 
tends  independently  and  of  itself  to  procure  certain  spiritual  blessings, 
and  ordinarily  operates  to  procure  them  ;  and,  nevertheless,  All  of  which 
are  obligatory,  and  produce  their  highest  results  only  in  conjunction. 
Such  are — the  sequence  of  holiness  on  the  cordial  belief  of  the  chief 
parts  of  divine  truth  by  one  omitting  no  known  duty,  and  the  life  within 
the  appointed  Society,  with  its  special  results. 

2.  That  there  may  be  variations  of  divine  laws,  in  merciful  accommo- 
dation to  human  infirmity,  which  yet  shall  leave  those  original  laws 
permanently  obligatory. 

3.  That  the  Church,  or  Body  of  Christ,  being  a  mysterious  Society,  to 
us  at  once  visible  in  its  earthly,  and  invisible  in  its  celestial  aspect — it 
is  easily  conceivable  that  holy  men  who,  through  ignorance  or  any  other 
infelicity  of  circumstances,  live  outside  the  earthly  Society,  may  yet  ce- 
lestially he  registered  and  accounted  as  its  real  members ;  unquestionable 
holiness,  which  supposes  union  with  Christ,  being  to  us  a  fair  presump- 
tion in  behalf  of  that  incorporation ;  and  the  probability,  or  even  the 
certainty  of  that  extension  of  mercy  still  leaving  it  obligatory  as  ever 
(or  even  more  obligatory,  where  known,  through  the  additional  bond  of 
gratitude),  to  fulfil  the  whole  will  of  God  by  belonging  to  the  earthly 
association. 

It  is  against  the  first  of  these  positions  that  the  chief  force  of  the 
Requisitionist's  argument  is  directed.     Our  difi'erence  may,  I  suppose,  be 


on  the  foregoing  Sermon.  443 

expressed  thus.  Ilis  view  is,  tluat  the  two  laws  therein  noted  (that  pro- 
portioned measures  of  holiness  shall  ordinarily  accompany  liumhle  faith 
— and  that  the  favor  of  God  shall  bless  those  who  live  within  the  Church), 
are  intended  absolutely  to  limit  each  other  ;  insomuch  that  there  is  no 
scriptural  ground  for  anticipating  any  spiritual  blessing  to  accrue  to  any 
individual  who  does  not  fulfil  both.  My  supposition  is — tliat  they  are 
collateral  laws  which  are  both  obligatory;  which  undoubtedly  do  in  va- 
rious ways  sustain  each  other ;  which  (as  I  have  largely  argued  in  a 
passage  not  at  all  inconsistent  with  this'),  Scripture,  for  the  wisest  rea- 
sons, nowhere  distinctly  treats  as  things  ever  to  be  sundered,  and  wldch 
it  is  always  a  crime  or  a  misfortune  to  sunder ;  but,  nevertheless,  the 
condition  in  one  of  which  (namely,  the  sincere  reception  of  the  chief 
elements  of  divine  truth,  with  desire  to  obey  to  the  utmost  of  know- 
ledge), is  so  represented  in  the  Bible,  that  we  cannot  reasonably  doubt 
that  it  would  of  itself  tend  to  produce  high  results  of  moral  purification^ 
results  'which  we  cannot  well  venture  to  limit — even  apart  from  those 
other  means  of  grace,  whose  obligation,  when  made  known,  it  strengthens. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  that  not  only  faith  in  divine  truth,  so  far  as  made 
known,  but  prayer,  self-denial,  solicitous  obedience,  and  every  other 
means  of  endeavoring  to  approach  or  please  God,  that  can  be  conceived 
to  exist  in  a  mind  ignorant  of  the  duties  connected  with  the  Church  life, 
must  be  considered  as  equally  concerned  in  this  question.  But  it  may 
be  sufficient  to  speak  of /at'^/i  in  the  character  and  in  the  promises  of 
God  to  obedience — faith  in  all  of  the  Gospel,  which  can  be  considered 
apart  from  the  peculiar  constitution  of  the  holy  society  of  the  Church — 
as  that  gift  must,  of  course,  form  i\\Q  foundation  of  any  advances  in  sanc- 
tification  which  a  believer  in  Christ  outside  that  body  can  attain. 

It  appears  to  me,  then,  that  the  whole  tone  of  Scripture  would  lead  us 
to  anticipate,  that  this  reception  of  divine  knowledge  into  a  sincere  and 
humble  breast  would,  apart  from  the  peculiar  obligations  and  blessings 
of  the  Church  Society,  ordinarily  bring  with  it  most  important  and  pre- 
cious spiritual  results  ;  results  which  are  real,  even  though  they  are 
imperfect  in  not  reaching  the  further  office  of  faith  to  lead  to  the  Church, 
and  to  find  its  full  consummation  in  the  Church  alone.  It  is  in  this 
conviction  that  I  have  spoken  of  this  law  of  the  influence  of  divine 
knowledge  as  being  of  "wider  compass"  than  the  law  of  the  Church 
Society,  because,  arising  from  the  very  nature  of  the  human  mind,  it  is 
instantaneously  applicable  to  every  rational  being — was  applicable  be- 
fore the  Church  existed,  and  is  still  applicable  in  cases  where  Church 
communion  is  impossible.  And  I  have  said  that  it  operates  "without 
express  limitation,"  because,  however  aided  by  other  helps,  or  hindered 
by  other  checks,  in  itself  it  appears  to  have  no  fixed  limit ;  there  is  no 
point  in  the  life  of  an  individual,  whether  within  or  without  the  Church, 

*  Sermou,  pp.  42S— 431. 


444  Letter  hy  Professor  Butler 

in  wliicli  we  Ccan  Scay  that  more  of  Immble  faith  will  not  ordinarily  pro- 
cure more  of  proportional  heavenliness.  This  seems  to  me  a  sort  of 
axiom,  or  transcendental  truth  (as  I  have  called  it  in  the  Sermon),  to 
which,  however  we  may  arrange  other  truths  around  it,  we  cannot  well 
admit  any  exception. 

That  the  humble  belief  of  divine  truths  may,  under  grace,  be  expected 
to  produce  these  results  by  its  own  independent  operation  (however 
strengthened,  increased,  and  perfected  by  other  means, — however  work- 
ing at  disadvantage  in  the  lack  of  them),  may  appear  from  such  con- 
siderations as  these. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  evident,  that  it  has,  independently  of  all  these 
other  accompaniments,  a  natural  fitness  for  the  purpose  of  moving  the 
heart ;  and  that  the  ordinary  method  of  grace  acting  on  humble  hearts 
is,  to  make  such  natural  fitnesses  independently  available  according  as 
they  arise,  and  as  far  as  they  will  go.  Thus,  the  heartfelt  prayer  of  a 
good  man,  having  a  natural  fitness  to  engage  the  ear  of  a  merciful  God, 
we  are  never  accustomed  to  doubt  that  it  does  so  in  all  possible  cases, 
and  irrespectively  of  all  other  means  whatever.  We  can  conceive  of  no 
special  covenant  with  the  Church,  of  such  a  nature  as  to  interfere  with 
the  great  general  law, — that  the  ear  of  God  shall  be  open  to  all  who  sin- 
cerely call  on  Him.  Our  conviction  in  this  case  arises  from  a  profound 
impression  of  the  character  of  the  God  with  whom  we  have  to  do ;  an 
impression  derived  less  from  special  texts  than  from  the  whole  bearing 
of  Scripture  ;  and  which  forces  us  to  believe  that  there  never  can  exist, 
in  any  time,  place,  or  circumstance,  a  sincere  motion  of  any  faculty  of 
understanding  or  heart  towards  Him  that  can  be  wholly  unacceptable  or 
unaccepted.  And  as  we  are  thus  justified  in  anticipating  that  those  who, 
ignorant  of  the  Church  duty,  p.  ay  outside  it,  shall,  amid  many  disadr 
vantages,  still  be,  in  their  measure,  heard ;  so  we  may  well  expect  that 
those  who,  ignorant  of  the  same  duty,  yet  know  all  others,  and  know 
them  in  order  to  willing  obedience,  shall  find,  amid  all  disadvantages,  a 
proportionate  blessing  attending  that  obedient  knowledge.  In  other 
words, — we  are  not  to  expect  that  where  there  is  a  sincere  use  of  means 
in  themselves  plainly  fitted  to  produce  godliness,  our  merciful  Father 
will  specially  suspend  His  blessing,  or  countervail  that  natural  fitness, 
because  the  means  are  not  completed  by  others  yet  unknown.  We  may 
conceive  such  cases  as  in  all  their  various  degrees  imperfect ;  we  cannot 
dare  to  regard  them  as  null. 

And  thus  the  special  ordinance  of  the  Church,  while  it  adds  both  to 
our  duties  and  our  blessings,  must  not  be  understood  as  if  it  at  once 
annulled  those  great  primary  maxims  springing  from  the  essential  nature 
of  man  and  of  God, — the  purifying  power  of  all  divine  truth,  or  the 
general  mercy  of  the  Father  of  all  to  sincere  supplicants.  It  is  under  the 
shadow  of  these  vast  principles  that  the  Church  herself  lives  and  grows  ; 
they  are  vaster  than  the  Church,  or  the  Church  could  never  enlarge  her 


on  the  foregoing  Sermon.  445 

boundaries.  Tlie  special  promises  of  God  are  covenanted  (for  how  else  could 
they  be  delivered  without  tempting  to  carelessness?)  to  perfect  belief 
and  obedience  ;  and  they  include  the  Church  life  as  portion  of  that  obe- 
dience ;  but  they  do  not  therefore  abrogate  that  antecedent  law  by  which 
holiness  in  general  follows  humble  faith  in  general,  and  which  explains 
the  partial  blessedness  that  we  now  see  to  accompany  partial  knowledge 
and  consequent  partial  obedience.  Indeed,  unless  the  principle  of  such 
an  accompaniment  to  the  strict  letter  of  any  divine  covenant  be  admit- 
ted, it  seems  difficult  to  conceive  how  there  ever  could  be  that  progress 
in  knowledge  and  grace  which  we  know  is  everywhere  scripturally  recog- 
nized ;  for  wherever  there  is  progress  there  must  first  be  imperfection, — 
defective  knowledge,  partial  performance.  Even  within  the  Church,  with 
how  much  dependence  on  these  universal  axioms  of  divine  mercy  must 
the  covenant  be  interpreted  ;  for  on  the  lowest  representation  of  its  con- 
dition, which  of  the  Church's  own  adult  members  can  be  said  completely 
to  fulfil  them  ? 

Again, — it  must  be  remembered  that  this  pursuit  of  divine  knowledge, 
and  belief  therein,  must  be  to  those,  not  born  in  the  Church,  the  first 
step  to  bring  them  thither ;  that  as  such  it  is  confessedly  blessed  ;  and  that 
even  in  the  many  cases  in  which,  unhappily,  it  does  not  terminate  in 
leading  them  to  that  holy  Society,  it  would  be  unreasonable  to  suppose 
that  God  would  miraculously  revoke  and  annul  the  sanctification  already 
attained.  Every  non-ej^iscoi^al  Christian  of  real  sincerity  and  godliness 
may  be  conceived  as  one  who,  searching  for  wisdom  as  for  hid  treasures, 
has  not  been  able  to  see  this  peculiar  duty,  but  has  in  the  search  seen, 
and  recognized,  and  fulfilled,  numberless  others.  Such  a  man  I  should 
expect  to  find  suffering  under  serious  disadvantages  ;  but  to  the  measure 
of  his  knowledge,  I  should  expect  him  to  manifest  a  spirit  pui'ified  and 
elevated.  And  the  fact  seems  to  me  to  justify  the  anticipation  as  abun- 
dantly as  any  scientific  theory  was  ever  yet  verified  by  observation. 

But  that  this  ordinary  power  of  belief  to  generate  sanctity  in  propor- 
tion to  sincerity,  humility,  and  the  weight  of  the  truths  believed,  may 
be  recognized  without  any  interference  with  the  peculiar  blessings  and 
obligations  of  the  Church,  appears,  perhaps,  more  forcibly  still,  when  we 
candidly  estimate  the  way  in  which  its  efiicacy  is  scripturally  described. 
We  find  it  attached  to  the  knowledge  as  such,  and  represented  as  arising 
by  a  kind  of  moral  necessity  out  of  the  knowledge ;  the  knowledge  sup- 
plying motives  of  action  and  stimulants  to  affection  that  are  to  operate 
in  this  case  exactly  as  in  every  other ;  the  resulting  blessings  growing 
with  the  growth  of  the  knowledge,  and  diminishing  with  its  loss ;  the 
persuasive  influence  of  the  knowledge  being  addressed  to  the  rational 
faculties,  and  so  appealing  to  them,  that  it  is  treated  as  a  perversion 
almost  inconceivable,  that  it  should  exist  in  the  mind  icithoict  practical 
consequences,  it  being  everywhere  plainly  intimated  that  in  "an  honest 
88 


446      Letter  hy  Professor  Butler  on  the  foregoing  Sermon. 

and  good  heart"  the  wonder  would  be,  not  that  piety  should,  but  that  it 
should  not,  flourish  under  the  influence  of  this  knowledge.  When,  in 
addition  to  all  this,  I  find  the  constitution  of  a  Society  under  successive 
ministrations,  consecrated  by  God's  blessing,  chartered  as  the  instrument 
of  precious  benefits, — I  may  not  doubt  that  incorporation  into  this  Society 
is  a  duty, — a  high  and  awful  duty, — a  duty  everywhere  to  be  pressed  as 
permanent  and  unqualified ;  but  assuredly  I  should  not  expect,  that  if 
ever  instances  should  arise  of  individuals  unhappily  ignorant  of  that 
duty,  the  previous  special,  appropriate,  ordinary  tendency  of  divine 
knowledge  should  be  suddenly  arrested  in  every  such  case.  Nor  indeed 
if  the  ordinary  tendenqy  of  divine  knowledge,  as  such,  to  produce  holi- 
ness (and  so  far,  acceptability  with  God)  be  denied,  can  I  conceive  on 
what  princii)le  the  position  of  "the  pious  Congregationalist"  can  be  sepa- 
rated from  that  of  the  pious  Heathen ;  both  being  beyond  the  Apostolic 
Polity,  and  the  circumstance  of  difierence  being  solely  that  possession  of 
Gospel  knowledge  and  the  state  of  heart  and  life  it  is  fitted  to  produce, 
to  which  on  this  theory  nothing  more  is  granted  than  the  casual,  contin- 
gent, extraordinary  mercy  which  few  are  disposed  to  refuse  to  Socrates 
or  Antonine.  If  we  are  certain, — as  certain  as  of  any  theological  propo- 
sition beyond  the  creed, — that  such  men  as  Edwards  of  America,  or  even 
Howe  and  Henry  among  English  Nonconformists,  lived  and  may  still  live 
in  a  higher  state  than  Socrates, — and  that,  simply  by  virtue  of  suj^erior 
knowledge  purifying  humble  hearts, — is  it  in  virtue  of  an"  extraordinary" 
exercise  of  mercy  ?  But  what  can  be  the  meaning  of  an  extraordinary 
dispensation  of  whose  operation  we  are  certain  ? 

That  the  tendency,  then,  of  holy  truths  in  humble  hearts  is  to  produce 
sanctity  of  thought  and  life ;  that  this  tendency  springs  from  the  very 
nature  of  the  truths  themselves,  and  may,  under  the  divine  blessing,  be 
ordinarily  expected  to  operate  in  proportion  as  they  are  known  and  felt ; 
that  the  result  of  a  great  body  of  such  truths  of  the  most  direct  practical 
pertinence,  thus  received,  may  be  expected  not  to  be  suspended,  where 
other  truths  are  unknown  which  do  not  alter  the  nature  of  the  former, 
though  they  greatly  illustrate  their  bearing  and  heighten  their  value  ; — 
this  is  what  I  mean  to  convey  when  I  speak  of  the  universal  application 
of  this  law  of  divine  knowledge ;  when  I  set  it  forth  as  satisfying  the 
facts  which  I,  and  thousands  beside  me,  think  we  see ;  and  when  I 
maintain  that  its  full  and  cordial  recognition,  with  every  practical  con- 
sequence it  can  involve,  leaves  the  original  disposition  of  the  Church 
and  ministry  of  Christ  unalterably  obligatory  on  every  human  being  who 
hears  the  Gospel. 

I  am,  Sir,  your  very  obedient  servant, 

William  Akchek  Butler. 


FI  NIS. 


PARRY    &    M'MILLAN'S    PUBLICATIOXS. 


The   Gospels:  with   Moral   Keflections  on  each 
Verse. 

J3y  Pasquier  Quesnel.  With  an  Introductory  Essay,  by  the  Rev,  Daniel 
Wilson,  A.  M.,  Vicar  of  Islington,  [now  Bishop  of  Calcutta.]  Care- 
fully revised  by  the  Rev.  Henry  A.  Boardman,  B,  D,  Printed  with 
bold  type,  on  beautifully  tinted  and  sized  paper.     2  vols.  8vo.     $4. 


The  following  letters  of  commendation  from  eminent  Clergymen,  and  brief  extracts 
selected  from  numerous  notices  of  the  religious  and  secular  press,  are  submitted,  by  tho 
publishers,  as  evidence  of  the  very  high  character  of  tho  work. 


"  We  have  no  work  of  the  same  kind ;  we  have  nothing  in  practical  divinity  so  sweet,  so 
spiritual,  so  interior  as  to  the  real  life  of  grace — so  rich,  so  copious,  so  original.  We  have 
nothing  that  extols  the  grace  of  God,  and  abases  and  lowers  man  so  entirely.  We  lessen 
not  the  value  of  our  various  admirable  comments  on  the  New  Testament;  they  have  each 
their  particular  excellencies.  But  none  of  them  supersedes  Quesnel;  none  can  supply  that 
thorough  insight  into  the  world,  the  evil  of  sin,  the  life  of  faith  and  prayer,  which  he  pos- 
sesses."— Bisliop  Wilso7i. 


"A  repository  of  original,  striking,  spiritual  Meditations,  the  absence  of  which  could  be 
supplied  by  no  other  work  in  our  language." — Dr.  Boardman. 


{From  the  Right  Rev.  Alonzo  Potter,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  Church  fw 
the  Diocese  of  Pennsylvania.) 

PJdladelphia,  Oct.  31,  1855.    ' 
Messrs.  Parry  &  McMillan, 

Gentlemen — QuesneVs  Rrfectionswas  an  invaluable  contribution  to  the  sacred  literature 
of  the  world  in  its  original  form.  In  this  edition,  prepared  under  the  auspices  of  such 
names  as  Bishop  Wilson  and  the  Rev.  Dr.  Boardman,  it  will  be  still  more  useful  for  Knglish 
and  Protestant  readers.  It  occupied  a  large  part  of  the  life  of  one  of  the  most  illustrious 
Jansenists  of  the  17th  century;  and  to  Ministers  of  the  Gospel,  and  to  private  Christians 
of  every  name,  it  must  always  be  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  interest  and  instruction. 
Your  press  could  have  rendered  no  better  service  to  the  public  than  by  such  an  edition  of 
such  a  work.  I  am.  gentlemen,  very  truly,  yours, 

ALONZO  POTTER. 


(From  Rev.  William  R.  Williams,  D.  D.,  Pastor  of  Amity  street  Baptist  Church,  N.  York.) 

New  York,  24th  October,  1855. 
Messrs.  Parry  &  McMillan, 

Gentlemen — I  have  for  some  years  been  almost  daily  in  the  use  of  Quesnel  in  the  original 
French.  It  is  blemished  there  with  some  Romanisms  that  are  withdrawn  in  your  revi.sion. 
Bengel  excels  it  in  nice  discrimination,  and  a  most  pregnant,  epigrammatic  brevity.  With 
that  exception.  Quesnel  seems  to  me  to  deserve  rank  at  the  head  of  pradicdl.  drvout,  and 
spiritual  expositions  of  the  New  Testament.  As  revised,  in  your  beautiful  edition,  its  gene- 
ral circulation  would,  in  the  subscriber's  judgment,  be  one  of  the  richest  boons  that  could 
be  conferred  on  the  various  Evangelical  churches  of  our  country. 
I  am,  gentlemen,  yours,  very  resp'y, 

WILLIAM  R.  WILLIAMS. 


{From  the  Rev.  Mr.  WyJie,  Pastor  of  First  Reformed  Pi-esbyteiHan  Church,  Philadelphia.) 
Messrs.  Parry  &  McMillan, 

Gentlemen — I  rejoice  to  find  that  you  have  given  to  the  American  public  so  handsome 
an  edition  of  Quesnel's  Moral  Reflections  on  the  Gospels.  There  is  a  fulness,  a  freshness,  a 
sweetness  in  this  work  which  make  it  delightful  reading,  and  now  that  it  has  passed  under 
the  revision  of  two  such  Editors  as  Bishop  Wilson  and  Dr.  Boardman,  it  may  be  considered 
perfectly  free  from  any  tincture  of  Romanism.  I  regard  it  as  a  most  valuable  addition  to  a 
library,  and  would  commend  it  to  the  preacher,  the  Sabbath-school  teacher,  and  the  private 
Christian,  as  a  most  profitable  and  agreeable  companion,  in  the  study  of  the  Gospels.  I 
hope  it  may  have  such  a  circulation  as  will  lead  to  the  publication  of  his  writings  on 
the  other  parts  of  the  New  Testament.  With  great  regard,  truly  yours, 

T.  W.  J.  WYLIK. 

Philadelphia,  Nov.,  1855. 


Messrs.  Parry  &  M'Millan, 

Gentlemen— Yen  are  very  welcome  to  theu.se  of  my  name  as  recommending  the  valuable 
and  eminently  spiritual  work  of  ''Quesnel  on  the  Gospels,"  which  you  have  ju.>.t  pubiishid. 

CM  AS.  P    MdLVAINK 

Cincinnati.  Nov    27.  1S.-).=i.  Bishoj,  of  Ihr  Prot   A'/)   Cli.  in   (Vn,> 


PARRY  &  M'MILLAN'S  PUBLICATIONS. 


(From  Rev.  W.  Adams,  D.  Z>.,  Pastor  of  Madison  Square  Presbyterian  CJiurcJi.) 

New  York  City,  €th  Nov.,  1855. 
Messrs.  Parry  &  McMillan, 

Gentlemen— I  rejoice  in  the  republication  of  Quesnd  on  the  Gospels.  It  is  the  life-labor 
of  a  good  and  great  man.  We  owe  more  to  the  Jansenists  than  has  been  acknowledged, 
irore  and  there  may  remain  in  Pascal,  Thomas  a'Kempis  and  Quesnel,  Romish  notions — 
flies  in  the  ointment — which  are  easily  separated  from  the  fragrant  mass.  There  is  an  un- 
common richness,  pith,  and  quaintness  in  the  Reflections  of  Quesnel,  which  will  secure  for 
them  that  esteem  they  deserve,  when  they  are  better  known.  The  excellent  taste  and 
judgment  of  the  American  Editor,  are  a  pledge  that  every  weed  has  been  culled  from  this 
garden  of  spices.  Very  respectfully,  your  Obt.  Servt., 

W.  ADAMS. 

(From  the  Eev.  Dr.  Alexander,  Pastor  oftlie.  Fifth  Avenue  and  Nineteenth  street  Presbyterian 
Church,  New  York.) 

New  York,  Oct.  24, 1855. 
The  work  of  Quesnel  on  the  Gospels,  is  a  series  of  Devotional  Reflections,  which  hag 
commanded  the  sufl'rages  of  Protestants.  As  corrected,  it  i.s,  in  my  opinion,  more  full  of 
holy  suggestion,  especially  for  Ministers  of  the  Word,  than  any  similar  writing;  indeed,  it 
breathes  the  best  spirit  of  Gerson,  Pascal  and  Fenelon.  But  its  chief  glory  is  its  condem- 
nation by  the  famous  Constitution  Unioenitus,  of  Pope  Clement  the  Eleventh.  I  rejoice 
in  the  republication  of  a  book  so  precious. 

JAMES  W.  ALEXANDER. 

(From  Thomas  De  Witt,  D.  D.,  of  the  Collegiate  Reformed  Dutch  CJiurch,  New  York.) 

New  York,  26th  Oct.,  1855. 
I  esteem  the  neat  edition  of  <•'  Quesnel's  Moral  Reflections  on  the  Gospels,"  published  by 
Parry  &  McMillan,  under  the  revision  of  Dr.  Boardman,  highly  valuable  for  profitable  reli- 
gious use.  The  Reflections  are  eminently  judicious,  and  richly  spiritual  and  practical.  Few 
works  of  the  kind  are  so  well  adapted  for  edification  in  the  devout  reading  of  the  Gospels. 
The  divine  life  in  the  soul  is  happily  and  strikingly  delineated,  and  the  practical  bearing  of 
the  truth  upon  the  discipline  of  the  heart  and  regulation  of  the  life,  is  most  wisely  and  im- 
pressively borne  home  in  these  volumes.  I  sincerely  hope  that  they  may  obtain  an  exten- 
eive  patronage,  and  wide  circulation  in  the  different  branches  of  the  Christian  church. 

THOMAS  DE  WITT. 

(From  the  Rev.  J.  P.  Durbin,  D.  D.,  of  the  Methodist  Episcopal  Cliurch,  Philadelphia.) 

Philadelphia,  Oct.,  1855. 
Messrs.  Parry  &  McMillan, 

Gentlemen — Many  years  ago,  when  I  first  began  to  study  the  Bible,  with  aid  from  the 
•writings  of  others,  my  attention  was  directed  to  the  pious  Quesnel,  by  the  depth  and  truth 
of  his  Moral  and  Religious  Reflections  on  the  Gospels.  Without  endorsing  his  peculiar 
speculative  opinions,  which  appear  occasionally,  I  heartily  commend  his  Notes  or  Reflec- 
tions on  the  Gospels,  verse  by  verse.  They  address  themselves  to  tho  heart  of  the  lay 
reader;  and  are  fruitful  aids  to  the  minister  in  preparing  for  the  pulpit. 

J.  P.  DURBIN. 

(From  E.  L.  Cleaveland,  D.  D.,  of  the  Congregational  Church,  New  Haven) 
The  publication  in  this  country  of  Quesnel's  celebrated  work  on  the  Gospels,  over  whose 
truth-telling  pages  Rome  has  trembled  and  saints  have  rejoiced,  is  a  long-needed  and  most 
valuable  addition  to  our  religious  literature.  I  am  glad  that  its  full,  sparkling  current  of 
original  thought,— rich  in  all  the  graces  of  the  Spirit, — is  henceforth  to  water  and  fertilize 
the  churches  of  our  land. 


New  Haven,  Nov.  20, 1855. 


E.  L.  CLEAVELAND. 


EXTRACTS   FROM   NOTICES   OF  THE    PRESS. 

"  This  world-renowned  work,  the  richest  product  of  Janscnist  Theology,  impressed  with 
the  imprimatur  of  tlie  Pope's  anathema,  is  now  for  the  first  time  published  in  this  coun- 
try. *  *  *  *  It  will  be  read  in  this  country,  as  it  has  long  been  in  Europe,  by  thousands 
to  their  spiritual  edification." — Biblical  Repertory  and  Princeton  Review. 

"  We  think  that  all  good  people,  and  clergymen  especially,  will  greatly  enjoy,  and  be 
largely  profited  by  these  '  Reflections.'  They  are  not  a  comment  on  the  Gospels,  bnt  each 
verse  is  followed  by  a  few  lines  suggesting  its  spiritual  richness  and  beauty,  and  often 
opening  its  religious  sense  with  charming  and  surprising  force.  The  volumes  are  admira- 
bly printed  in  large  and  fair  tjrpe,  and  in  excellent  taste." — Congregationalist. 

'•We  doubt  not  that  ministers  and  private  Christians  will  find  these  volumes  to  be  a 
storehouse  of  spiritual  treasures."- iV.  Y.  Observer. 

"  Queanol  has  left  nothing  uuwinnowed  but  the  finest  of  tho  whaxi."— Nat.  InteL 


Date  Due 

?   n-  '42 

Hu'&'^S^wfi^ 

f> 

.1  Ifljy^^B 

::H;:|i||^H 


IM 

iJi 

• 

:    i 

*.. 

iMI 

1 

III 

1 

jnit;  ilj^m^ 

iiilklli'']ll2^H 

■ 

1 

